I head for bed 7.
The curtain is half-open. I walk in without hesitating.
And there she is.
Gabrielle.
Sitting beside his bed. Her hands are clenched in her lap, eyes red like she’s been crying, shoulders hunched.
She looks up the second she senses me.
Her face goes from startled to hostile in under a heartbeat.
I raise my chin. “Figures.”
She stands immediately, glaring. “Whyare you here?”
A sarcastic scoff escapes me.
Gabrielle’s jaw tightens. “Don’t start with me—”
“I didn’t start anything.” My eyes flick to Lincoln on the bed. He’s pale, hooked to monitors, chest rising slow and shallow. My throat closes for a second.
Gabby’s eyes soften when she looks at him. Mine burn.
“Get out,” she says.
“No,” I answer simply.
We both stand there facing each other across the room, like two storms about to collide over the man sleeping between us. And just when the tension tightens enough to snap…
Lincoln stirs.
His fingers twitch. His breathing shifts. His eyes struggle to open.
We both freeze.
Gabby moves first, stepping closer, voice trembling. “Lincoln?”
I take a step too, refusing to be edged out. “Hey, Lincoln—hey, look at me.”
His eyelids flutter. Confusion creases his forehead.
And the first word out of his mouth…
Is mine.
“Sarah…?”
Gabby’s face shatters.
And I step closer to the bed, victorious heat rushing through my chest even as guilt gnaws somewhere deeper.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I’m right here.”
Gabby looks like she might actually break something.
Security walks in a beat later, two officers, big guys, and the whole room freezes.
