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“You can scrub yourself over here.” Adami shows me a basin and shoves antiseptic soap and a clean towel into my hands.

I clean up as fast and well as I can while she unbuckles the pillow from Mina’s side, takes off Mina’s shoes, and cuts off the dress.

“My God,” she exclaims when she sees Mina’s bruises. “What happened to her?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Glancing at my briefs, she says, “There’s an overcoat on a hook behind the door. I think you’ll find a pair of Crocs in the closet.”

I pull on the overcoat and shoes as Adami takes Mina’s vitals.

“Weak pulse and rapid heart rate,” she says, hurriedly gathering hermetically sealed instruments. “She lost some blood, but I don’t think she needs a transfusion.” She bites her lip. “I’ll only know for sure after an ultrasound. She should really be where she can be better monitored.”

“If I take her to another hospital, she’s dead.”

She briefly pinches her eyes shut before giving me a tight nod. “I’ll do my best. Turn her on her side and keep her like that.”

After washing the wound with soapy water, she examines it. “It’s a flesh wound. Mina was lucky. The bullet went straight through her side without hitting any vital organs. There don’t seem to be severed arteries or bullet fragments, and I don’t see any other obvious damage.” She presses around a purple bruise on Mina’s stomach. “We’ll have to do an ultrasound to ensure she doesn’t have internal bleeding. Either way, it’ll take her some time to recover. She’ll be weak, especially from the blood loss.”

“Can you keep her here?”

“You mean in secret.”

“Yes.”

She hesitates, then nods. “Okay.”

I hold Mina’s cold body as the doctor gets to work, stitching her up. Thankfully, Mina remains unconscious. Adami works quickly, disinfecting the wound and securing a bandage over the stitches.

When the doctor moves to the basin, I catch her wrist. “Will she be all right?”

“Her chances of recovering from the gunshot are good unless infection sets in.”

“She’ll live,” I say, needing the doctor to confirm it. I need her to say those words.

She gives me a strange look. “For now.”

“For now?” The prognosis throws my heartbeat into overdrive. “What do you mean for now?”

Her expression is oddly sympathetic. “She hasn’t told you.”

“Told me what?”

“Hanna said you and Mina are getting married. Is it true?”

Married. Fleeting shards of memories involving rubies and a ring and forever run through my head, but it’s hard to focus on anything when the doctor hasn’t given me the verdict I need. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I need to know what your relation to Mina is.”

“We’re…” What are we? Kidnapper and captive? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Lovers? I can’t answer that question. I only know it’s not enough. Not nearly. I settle for, “Everything. She’s everything.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made that comment. This whole situation…” She waves at Mina. “It caught me off-guard. Mina is very special to me.”

I fight the urge to grab the woman and shake her until her teeth rattle in her skull. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I can’t divulge personal information to anyone who isn’t family. Mina didn’t even want Hanna to know. It’s best Mina tells you herself, if that’s what she decides.”

A thousand alarm bells go off in my mind. Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong. From the pitying way Adami regards me, I suddenly get the feeling a bullet wound is the least of my concerns.

I grip her arm hard. “You don’t understand. Mina is everything. Without her, hell isn’t a strong enough word to describe what my existence will become.”

The fever in my soul must be showing on my face, because her shoulders drop in a gesture of tired surrender. “I can see she means a lot to you. I think you mean a lot to her, too. Hanna spoke very highly of you.”

Hanna. Fuck. In my panic, I didn’t think. I’ll have to break the news to her, but right now, I have greater worries on my mind.

“Tell me,” I beg. “Please. I’ll fix whatever’s wrong.”

Adami’s gaze softens. “I’m afraid this is the one thing you can’t fix, Mr. Ivanov.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.” I’ll give my life, my very soul.

She stares at me for a few long moments, then sighs. “All right. Knowing how you feel about Mina, and after this”—she glances at Mina’s unconscious body again—“I guess you have a right to know.” Tilting her head, she gives me a sorrowful smile. “I’m sorry you have to find out like this. Mina has cancer. Leukemia.”

36

Mina

I peel open my eyelids and fight the fog that obscures my mind. It’s difficult. I feel groggy and heavy, like I’m bogged down by gravity. Slowly, my blurry vision comes into focus. The room is strange yet familiar. The white walls and contemporary paintings remind me of Hanna’s room. The clinic.

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