My heart constricted at the fear in her voice. “I promise. Just a quick check-up, and then you can come right back.”
She allowed the nurse to lead her out, casting worried glances over her shoulder. Mikhail stepped aside to let them pass, then moved into the room.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his accent thicker than I remembered, as if stress had brought it on.
“Like I drowned,” I replied, trying to push myself up straighter in the bed. Jake immediately moved to help me, his hands gentle as he adjusted the pillows behind my back.
“You did drown,” Mikhail said bluntly. “Technically, at least. Your heart stopped.”
I felt a chill that had nothing to do with my body temperature. I’d died, actually died. The realization hit me like a physical blow, and I found myself reaching for Jake’s hand without thinking.
“What happened after?” I asked, looking between them. “With Kozlov and his men?”
“They were… taken care of,” Mikhail said, his voice hardening. “We made sure of it. The police believe it was a home invasion gone wrong.”
Jake’s hand tightened around mine. “Caleb’s recovering too. Bullet wound to the thigh, but nothing serious.”
I nodded. “Now what? What about your dad?”
Mikhail took a step closer to the bed. “Now we have a window of opportunity. My father thinks his men have failed, but he doesn’t know I was there. He doesn’t know I’m alive.”
“How long before he figures it out?” Jake asked.
“Days, maybe a week.” Mikhail’s eyes fixed on our joined hands, something flickering in his expression before he masked it. “We need to move quickly. Once Ella is discharged, we need to get her and Nora somewhere safe while I deliver the evidence against my father.”
I shook my head, wincing at the pain the movement caused. “I’m not running anymore, Mikhail. I can’t do that to Nora.”
“It won’t be forever,” he insisted. “Just until my father is in custody. A few weeks at most.”
“And then what?” I asked the question that had been building since I’d learned he was alive. “What happens after he’s in jail?”
The room fell silent. Jake’s thumb moved in small circles against my palm, a gesture so subtle I doubt he was even aware of it. Mikhail looked between us, understanding dawning in his eyes.
“That,” he said finally, “is a conversation for when you’re stronger.”
Before I could argue, a doctor entered—the same one who had treated me in the emergency room, according to Jake’s whispered explanation. He conducted a thorough examination, asking me questions about pain levels and memory, shining lights in my eyes, and listening to my lungs.
“Remarkably good, considering what you’ve been through,” he concluded. “We’ll want to keep youanother night for observation, but barring any complications, you should be able to go home tomorrow.”
Home. The word seemed to hang in the air, suddenly loaded with uncertainty. Which home? My little house with the security system Jake had installed. The lodge at Wolf Creek? Some safe house Mikhail had arranged? Or something else entirely that none of us had considered yet?
The doctor left, and an uncomfortable silence descended on the room. Jake was the first to break it.
“I should check on Nora,” he said, reluctantly releasing my hand. “Make sure she’s actually eating something, not just drinking hot chocolate.”
I nodded, grateful for his thoughtfulness. “Thank you. For everything.”
His eyes softened as they met mine. “Always.”
As he left, Mikhail moved to the chair Jake had vacated. Up close, I could see the toll the past days had taken on him—new lines around his eyes, a tension in his jaw that hadn’t been there before.
“You’re in love with him,” he said matter-of-factly.
It was not a question; it was an accusation.
Chapter 17
Ella
