“Lucas Scott.”
She blinked at me, then glanced at the band around my wrist, where my name was printed for all to see. They must have gotten it from my dog tags.
“Right. I’d forgotten who you are. Just a moment.”
I almost smiled as the relief flooded me.
Settling back into my blankets, I closed my eyes. He’d be with me soon.
We’dsurvived.
Several minutes later, a soothing voice murmured my name. My eyes snapped open.
Zara sat at my bedside, dressed in a hospital gown, her arm in a sling and gauze taped along her neck and arms. A noose of fear strangled me.
“Is Lucas okay?” I asked.
She frowned. “Let’s talk about you for a moment. Are you okay? Who did that to your hands?”
I looked down at my bandages. “Miller. He and Lucas fought, and Lucas was stabbed, and I was trying to drag him out of the burning cabin. And Adam…”
My sore throat thickened with tears.
“Adam’s on a different floor,” she said, her hand on my arm. “He took a gunshot to the chest, but his vest saved him. Broke several ribs. Punctured a lung.”
A spike of relief was chased by a violent stab of debilitating fear. Why wasn’t she telling me what I wanted to know? A hot tear splashed down my cheek. “And Lucas?”
Her eyes filled. “Sophia?—”
The monitor behind me went haywire. “Where is Lucas, Zara?”
A beat passed, and her gaze dropped to the floor. “I’m sorry.”
I stared.
She kept talking, but the words were just white noise. My brain stalled.
I’m sorry.
That couldn’t mean…
No.
He was fine. He was recovering in another room. They’d repaired his knife wound. They’d replaced his blood.
After several moments, Zara’s words finally made their way into my ears. “Lucas didn’t make it out.”
“No.”
She paused. “No?”
“He’s fine, right? He’s… He’s fine.”
Zara hesitated, her hand squeezing my arm. “I’ve spoken with the general, Sophia. He calls here every day, checking on you. He found you in the cabin. You and Adam were still alive, but Lucas…”
Lucas what?
Lucaswhat?
