Then her eyes open.
They don’t focus right away. They drift, confused glassy—until they land on me.
Recognition hits.
Her grip tightens, weak but unmistakable.
“You stayed,” she whispers, voice raw.
The word cut straight through me.
“Always,” I say, my voice rough. “There was never another option. It’s you and me till the end.”
She swallows, eyes shining as she takes in the room, the machines, the bandages she can see without moving her head. A flicker of fear crosses her face, then something steadier replaces it.
“I thought I was…” she trails off, breath hitching.
I lean closer, resting my forehead against the edge of the mattress. “I know, I say quietly. “I know.”
Her gaze searches my face, like she’s piecing something together. “They won’t come back?”
“No,” I say without hesitation. “They will never touch you again. No one will.”
She studies me for along moment, like she’s deciding whether to believe that. Then she nods, slow and tired.
“Okay,” she whispers.
The trust that single word nearly brings me to my knees.
I lift her hand, pressing my mouth to her knuckles, breathing her in like proof this is real. That she’s here. That I didn’t lose her.
Outside this room there will be consequences. There will be blood debts and questions and truths she hasn’t asked yet.
But in here…
In this moment…
There is only her breathing.
And me staying.
48
Colter looks wrecked.
Not the polished, controlled version of him I’m used to. The one who is always ten steps ahead. This version looks like he’s been holding himself together with sheer will and caffeine. His eyes are rimmed red, his jaw tight, his attention fixed on me like I might vanish if he blinks.
There’s relief there. And pain. Twisted together like dark vines.
My memory is still foggy, but pieces are surfacing the longer I study him. Familiar things start to click into place, rearranging themselves into something heavier.
“I’m going to let your father know you’re awake,” he says quietly. “And get Elias back down here.”
“Sutton?” I ask before he can turn away. The name comes out rough, like my throat hasn’t caught up to my thought’s yet. “She was in the car with me. When they hit it.”
Colter nods immediately. “She’s okay. Physically, anyway.” His mouth tightens. “She feels bad that she couldn’t do more to help.”
The knot in my chest loosens.
