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Her mother’s expression grew serious. “It will not be easy. You must be willing to humble yourself…to follow your heart.”
“Her heart rate’s too high. She’s running a hundred and three-degree temp,” a woman said over Lillian’s head. Not her mother.
The clinical voice cut into the hallucination—it was a hallucination, wasn’t it?—snapping Lillian back to her current circumstances. She watched from far above where she lay on a gurney, a team of medical professionals surrounding her. A doctor barked out orders.
Where was she? The hospital, of course. She was in the hospital and the doctor was putting paddles on her chest. A defibrillator?
“One, two, three…clear.”
Pain radiated from her head to her toes.
“Sleep now, Lily,” her mother said. “You’ll feel better soon.”
ChapterTwenty-four
“How is she?”
Tristan eyed Hannah through bloodshot eyes. He sat across from Lillian’s bedside—he could have been there a day, or maybe it was longer. He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember when he’d last ate or slept, either.
He shook his head and pressed his lips together. “She went into cardiac arrest. The doctors shocked her heart and brought her back to life, but she’s still unconscious.”
“My God.” Hannah brought her hand to her mouth, suppressing a sob. Her dark hair gleamed, shimmering with a rich chestnut color under the harsh hospital lights. If he hadn’t seen her in a hospital bed earlier, Tristan would never have known the woman before him had been near death only a few days ago.
Hannah seemed to pull herself together, straightening her shoulders and casting him a fierce look. “We can’t let her die. We must find a way to save her.”
He shook his head, looking down at his hands in his lap to avoid her fiery gaze. He managed a single, painful breath and muttered. “I’ve tried. I’ve talked to every medical professional I know. She’s in a coma. The doctors say there’s only a slim chance she’ll awaken.”
“No, Tristan.” Hannah laid a hand on his arm, a hesitant touch, but it opened something inside him.
He lifted his head until their eyes met. A mistake. He seemed to get pulled into their swirling amber depths, until he couldn’t look away.
“Youcansave her. But you must act fast. Here’s what you must do.”
Something brushed Lillian’s face, and she swatted at it like a fly. She blinked, but the fog was so thick in front of her, she couldn’t see.
“Don’t fight me,” a woman whispered in a thick accent. “Soon you’ll feel better. Davay ya tebe pomog.”
Lillian strained to open her eyes, but they were sealed. Power whispered over her skin, and she trembled. “Who are you?” Had she spoken out loud? But no, she hadn’t moved her lips.
“A friend. I’m here to help. Relax, my dear.”
Easier said than done. Heat entered her veins—warm, thrilling, powerful heat. There was something familiar in the woman’s touch, in the heat, but Lillian couldn’t figure out what.
The woman mumbled something, and a low voice answered. It was then Lillian realized they were not alone. Someone else was there…a man.
“Tristan?” A mist formed and tightened its clammy fist around her throat. She gasped and shivered, and her mother wrapped her in a warm blanket.
“Thanks, Mom, I’m so cold.”
“Sweetie, you can’t stay here.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Please, Mom. I want to be with you.”
“You can’t, baby,” her mother said, wiping away her tears. “Your time has not yet come. You must go back.”
“No, please,” she said, her voice shaking.
Her mother’s serene expression didn’t change. She smiled at Lillian and stroked her cheek. “Sweetheart, the choice is not yours to make.”
