Emma
A soft knock came next. Sara opened the door a few inches, then stepped aside.
Emma slipped in—gray sweater, worry lines, and eyes that looked like home. She went straight to Caitlin’s side, brushing hair from her forehead.
“Lord, you’ve scared us all half to death.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Caitlin whispered.
Emma’s voice softened. “Sweetheart, none of this is your fault. Folks talk—let ’em. You just rest, you hear me?”
Caitlin nodded, tears slipping free. “It’s humiliating. Everyone knows. The papers, the courthouse—my life’s a headline.”
“Maybe so,” Emma said. “But you’re breathing. You got out. That’s what matters.”
For a while they just sat there, the hum of machines filling the silence. Then Emma stood, kissed Caitlin’s forehead, and walked to the door. In the hall she stopped beside Sara and said loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, “I can’t believe they let him out on bail. He should be under the jail.”
The words carried.
Caitlin
Her eyes opened, sharp now. “He kidnaps me—and he gets out on bail?”
Burke turned back from the doorway. “Yeah. He made bail. But he won’t get near you. Not now, not ever.”
“He always finds a way,” she said, small and furious. “He buys people. He smiles. He wins.”
“Not this time.” Burke’s voice was bedrock. “Deputies outside this door. One on Izzy’s room. Round-the-clock protection. If he so much as breathes near this hospital, I’ll know.”
Her anger thinned into trepidation. “He’ll never stop.”
“Then neither will I.”
The promise hung there—solid and quiet.
She watched him—saw the split at his knuckle, the exhaustion in his eyes, the steadiness that never broke.
“You should go home. Get some rest.”
“The only rest I’ll get is right here.”
A faint smile tugged at her mouth. “Stubborn.”
“Occupational hazard.”
Rosie curled at Caitlin’s boots again—a small, steady weight. Caitlin felt it, and for the first time in days, it felt good.
Sara Parker
Sara straightened as Burke stepped into the hall, her gaze sharp. “Report says there was a truck circling the lot about half an hour ago. Deputies ran the plates—local registration. I told them to keep eyes on it.”
Burke’s expression tightened. “No mistakes. Lock down the stairwell—nobody in or out without a badge. If anyone gets pushy, call me.”
“You got it, Sheriff.”
He lowered his voice. “And Sara—if there’s even a hint of trouble, you pull Caitlin and Izzy first. Protocol goes out the window.”
Sara’s hand settled on her holster. “Understood. I don’t plan to let anyone near them.”
