Fee's eyes widen as she takes in the professional-grade equipment. "This is insane. You have a whole hospital in here."
"When you can't go to regular hospitals, you bring the hospital to you." I lift her onto the medical bed, the paper crinkling under her weight. "Let me get those answers you need."
I pull out my phone and dial Yuri's number, switching to speaker before the first ring completes.
"Da?" Yuri's gruff voice fills the room.
He starts speaking in Russian, but I cut him off immediately.
"English, Yuri. Fee needs to hear this directly."
"Ah." His tone shifts, becoming more careful. "Ms. Quinn, I apologize. How are you holding up?"
"I've been better." Fee's voice wavers slightly. "Please tell me Shane's alive."
"He is breathing, fighting, and cursing the medical team in colorful Irish as he comes out of the anesthesia." Yuri's dry humor comes through even over the phone. "Surgery completedtwenty minutes ago. Two bullets extracted. One punctured lung, other passed through lower abdomen. Surgeon says he missed major organs by centimeters."
I watch Fee's shoulders drop as if someone cut the strings holding her upright. The relief hits her so hard she actually sways on the medical bed.
"He's going to make it?" she whispers.
"Shane O'Malley will live to see his child born, Ms. Quinn. Recovery will take weeks, but he will return home to his pregnant wife."
Fee's hand flies to her wrist, fingers closing around that small silver charm. Her eyes flutter shut, and I can see her lips moving silently. Prayer, gratitude, maybe both.
"What about Cillian?" Fee asks without opening her eyes.
"The stubborn Irishman refuses to stay in bed. Bullet went clean through his shoulder, missed bone and major vessels. He demands to know when he can resume duties." Yuri's voice carries grudging respect. "I told him when he can lift his weapon without bleeding through bandages."
Fee opens her eyes, looking directly at the phone. "Thank you for taking care of them, Yuri."
"Anton's orders carry weight with me, Ms. Quinn. Your safety includes your peace of mind."
I study Fee's face as she processes this. The way her eyes flick to mine, then back to her bracelet.
"What's the status on the scene?" I ask.
"Boutique employees unharmed. Shaken, understandably, but physically intact. Crime scene already sanitized. Quinn family leadership has been notified of incident and your current custody of Ms. Quinn." Yuri pauses. "They expect immediate contact from you, Anton."
"My purse," Fee says suddenly, sitting up straighter. "I dropped everything when we ran."
"All personal effects recovered from service alley. Purse, phone, shoes. Everything accounted for and secure."
Fee nods, then her expression sharpens. "Yuri, Shane's wife needs to be told what happened, but whoever delivers this news better handle it properly. She's five months pregnant with their first child. If someone scares her badly enough to trigger complications, I will personally make their life miserable."
"Understood completely, Ms. Quinn. I will handle notification personally, with appropriate care for her condition."
Even bleeding and shaken, her first instinct is still to shield the people she cares about.
"Anything else requiring immediate attention?" I ask Yuri.
"Negative. All situations contained. I will contact you with updates as they develop."
"Good work today."
The line goes dead, leaving Fee and me alone in the sterile quiet of the medical room.
I watch Fee's shoulders shake as relief wars with exhaustion in her system. Tears start flowing. Every protective instinct I have screams at me to do something, anything, to take away her pain.
