“Some chills, no vomiting,” I answer.
The nurse nods and gets to work with the thermometer and pulse oximeter.
“Is she allergic to anything?”
“No,” I say.
“Okay, we’ll monitor her closely. The doctor’s on the way.”
I perch beside Lily, stroking her arm. “You’re okay, Lily-bug, we’re right here. I promise.”
Her eyes flutter but she doesn’t wake. I turn to Aleksander, voice trembling. “You said no hospitals before…”
His eyes flash, suddenly fierce. “Not for this. Not for her. That’s different. She needs real care. I’ll never risk her.”
I swallow, nodding. “Okay. I just—I was scared.”
The doctor comes in, pulling on gloves. “What do we have?”
The nurse fills him in.
“Let’s have a look.” The doctor gently examines Lily, listens to her chest, checks her eyes. “We’ll run some tests, start an IV for fluids and fever control,” he says, then looks at me. “You’ll stay with her?”
“Of course,” I say instantly.
The nurse preps Lily’s arm. She whimpers and I lean close. “I’m here, baby. Just a little pinch. You’re so brave.”
Aleksander stands at the foot of the bed, hands clenched into fists, watching every movement.
Once the IV is in, Lily’s breathing deepens, her forehead beaded with sweat but a little less flushed.
“Will she be alright?” I ask, voice small.
“She’s in good hands,” the nurse reassures. “You did the right thing bringing her in.”
We’re out in the hallway, waiting—there’s nothing else we can do. The linoleum under my sneakers is cold, and the lights overhead make everything look too stark, too exposed. I stare at the closed door, arms wrapped around myself, listening to the faint echo of hospital sounds.
I can feel Aleksander next to me, heavy and silent, the kind of quiet that isn’t peaceful. He leans back against the wall, scrubbing a hand over his face. For the first time, he looks…lost.
He glances at me, eyes shadowed. “I don’t even know the allergies my daughter has,” he says, voice raw. “What kind of father doesn’t know that?”
My heart aches for him. I reach out, sliding my hand into his. His skin is warm, fingers trembling just a little, and the contact sends a jolt through me, sharp and deep. All the mess and fear and exhaustion falls away for a second—I just feel him, real and vulnerable.
I squeeze his hand, gentle. “You didn’t even know she was yours till yesterday. You’re here now,” I say softly. “That’s what matters.”
He looks at our joined hands like he can’t quite believe it. I watch his thumb trace my knuckles, and suddenly I know, with an awful, beautiful certainty—I love him. I’ve only had him in my life again for three days, but the truth is, he never really left it. He’s been in the back of my mind for four years, always lurking in the shadows of what-ifs and could-have-beens. I can’t imagine a world where I don’t want to hold him together like this.
Aleksander’s grip tightens, like maybe he feels it too.
He takes a breath, shoulders squaring a little, and turns to face me. “There’s something I have to tell you,” he says quietly. “I found out something earlier. No more lies, Bella. I don’t want to keep you in the dark.”
I nod, heart thudding. “Okay. Tell me.”
He draws a shaky breath, eyes flickering to the pale hospital wall, then back to me. “Selene said Kirov was carrying something for Irina when he got killed. She wasn’t sure what it was—just that it was important, and Irina wanted it badly. Selene only found out after…after he died. She said Irina was furious when she didn’t get it back.”
A chill skitters down my spine. “Do you think it has something to do with what’s happening now?”
He nods, jaw tight. “I do.”
