Fuck.
I know that because I saw the gurney wheeled down the corridor, a white sheet drawn over a shape that no longer resembled the woman I know.
They stood around it discussing procedure, containment, jurisdiction, none of it meaning a damn thing.
The only thing that matters is finding the man responsible and ensuring he doesn’t die quickly. I will dismantle him piece by piece. I will make him understand what he has taken before I end him.
And then…
Isaak is across the corridor arguing with a uniformed officer, his voice lethal.
The explosion occurred in a public place, which means every branch of law enforcement has descended upon the building. Police, counter terrorism, forensic command, all of them crawling over the wreckage.
I paid to keep certain details contained, but it is impossible to silence an incident of this magnitude entirely. Most of what I paid for was to ensure it doesn’t reach her family,yet.
The official statement reports a gas leak. An unfortunate explosion in a restricted section of the hospital. An area with minimal occupancy, resulting in a single fatality.
That is all it says.
No name, gender, or age.
Her family is not to be informed.
While the officer is distracted by Isaak, I move.
Someone catches my arm before I reach the door. I don’t even grant him a glance. My fist connects with his jaw, and I feel the crack of his bone beneath my knuckles before he collapses at my feet.
I have been patient far too long.
I shove the door open and step inside.
The room stops me cold.
For a moment, breathing becomes difficult. This is the first time I have entered the room itself, not merely glimpsed it from the corridor.
It is destroyed.
Blackened.
Burned down to its very structure.
I drag in a breath, but it does nothing. The air is thick with ash and chemicals, and it settles heavily in my lungs. The walls are scorched. The floor is coated in soot. The bed is nothingmore than warped metal. The machines that once surrounded her have melted into unrecognisable shapes.
The smell sits to the back of my throat, acrid and invasive, and I have to make myself not retch.
I don’t realise I’m falling until my knees hit the floor.
My chest feels cavernous, as though something essential has been removed and my body has been expected to function regardless.
This is where she was.
This is where I left her.
I should never have walked away. Not even for a second.
I left her here.
And now she is not here at all.
