“Mrs. Graves?” Allen’s voice sharpened instantly. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I—I’m behind the Lester Hotel,” she sobbed. “Alexander—someone attacked him—he’s bleeding—he’s hurt really badly—”
Her voice broke completely.
“Please send me your location immediately,” Allen said, his tone tight with urgency. “I’m nearby and on my way. I’ll contact the police and an ambulance right now.”
“Okay…” Mia whispered.
Her fingers trembled uncontrollably as she tried to press the screen. Tears dropped onto the phone, smearing the display. She wiped at it with her sleeve again and again until she finally managed to hitsend.
The moment the message went through, the phone slipped from her hand and hit the ground.
She didn’t even notice.
Alexander was still half-kneeling, half-collapsed against her, his weight heavy and unmoving. Mia wrapped both arms around him instinctively, holding him upright, holding him close—like letting go would mean losing him.
His blood soaked into her clothes, warm against her skin.
Her entire body shook violently. Breaths came in short, broken gasps. Every second stretched endlessly. Every heartbeat felt like a scream in her ears.
“I’m here,” she whispered over and over, pressing her cheek to his hair. “I’m here… just stay with me…”
Five minutes passed.
To Mia, it felt like forever.
When a familiar black car turned into the street, she lifted her head sharply. Summoning what little strength she had left, she raised her arm and waved frantically.
“I’m here!” she cried out, her voice hoarse with panic. “Allen—over here!”
She kept waving, even though the car was clearly headed toward her, her body refusing to calm down.
The car screeched to a stop.
And then—sirens.
Police lights and an ambulance barreled toward them, red and blue flashing across the narrow street as the sound cut through the frozen air.
Mia tightened her arms around Alexander as the world rushed back in.
***
Mia’s breath came out in timid, broken shivers as she sat in the hospital lobby, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Her heart pounded so hard it felt lodged in her throat, each beat loud and painful. Fear, confusion, and a strange, unbearable anticipation tangled inside her chest, making it hard to think straight.
She couldn’t read the signs on the walls properly. The words blurred every time her eyes skimmed over them. Even lifting her head felt exhausting. Each time the lobby doors slid open with a soft hiss, her body jerked instinctively, shoulders tensing, heart leaping—hope and dread rising together before crashing back down again.
Alexander had been taken into the operation theatre two hours ago.
Two long, endless hours.
And still—nothing.
Her fingers trembled nonstop, no matter how tightly she pressed them together. Earlier, she had scrubbed the blood off her hands in the washroom sink, rubbing until her skin burned and turned raw. But no matter how much she washed, the memory of his blood—warm, sticky—clung to her. Dark, dried patches still stained her clothes, stark against the fabric, impossible to ignore.
Her chest felt tight, her breathing shallow and uneven. Her phone buzzed again and again in her hand, but the sound barely registered anymore. She didn’t check the screen. She didn’t move. She just sat there, frozen, as if any movement would shatter what little control she had left.
Then—
