The nurse reentered with a rolling cart, humming as she moved around the room erasing any sign that I’d existed here—wiping off the colorful words on the whiteboard, taking down the IV bags and wrapping the lines, looking under the bed to make sure nothing lingered. I liked that. I wondered if Brightfield had done the same the very second I’d left. Had all the facilities done this? Come in, quick and efficient, to delete Lucy Graves from the building?
I must have been staring, because the nurse caught my gaze and stopped moving. “Oh, I know. I’m sorry. We don’t normally break down the room until the patient’s gone, but we’ve got a shortage of beds.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad you’re doing it.” As I said it, I realized it was an odd thing to say. I cleared my throat, clarifying, which just made me sound stranger. “I’ve been in hospitals all my life. I never really thought about what happened when I was transferred. It felt like—” I hesitated, trying to make what I was saying sensical— “I left little pieces of myself behind every time.”
She waited patiently, a curious look on her face. That only made me feel more awkward, so I barreled forward.
“I just mean I’m glad to know that the parts of me left behind don’t rot away in whatever space I’ve left behind.” I fell silent now, cheeks growing red hot.
The nurse gave me a wide smile, and it reached her eyes. “Lucy, I don’t really understand. I don’t think anyone could unless they’ve lived the life you have. Just like you can’t fully understand the things I’ve been through, and the way I’ve processed my feelings. But if seeing this makes you feel better, then I’m glad for that. I’ll make sure that when you walk through that door, this place looks like you were never here to begin with.”
The woman didn’t know what her words meant to me.
She didn’t know how she was setting me free in a way I didn’t realize I needed.
Today, I wasn’t just walking out of this room; I was walking out of every single hospital that had ever called me a patient.
The nurse hummed as she worked, oblivious to the emotions churning inside me. She seemed genuinely happy that I was well enough to leave, her Beta scent warm with satisfaction. I watched her, feeling incredibly grateful.
“There, a good cleaning and this room will be Lucy free.” The nurse rubbed her hands together in triumph. “Let me go get the wheelchair. You have someone coming to take you home, right?”
“Yes, they should be here any minute,” I said, nodding.Home. Were they taking me home today?Then I realized she’d mentioned a wheelchair. “I can walk though.”
Her look was sympathetic now. “I’m sure you’ve been through this sort of thing enough to know the typical protocol.”
I bit my lip, hating the idea of being wheeled out of this hospital like an invalid.
“Look, let’s do this.” She leaned in conspiratorially, “I’ll leave the wheelchair outside the room. You can sit down once you’re in the hallway.”
It was such a small difference, a matter of a few feet, but it meant the world. “Okay,” I managed, throat feeling tight.
A soft knock on the door sounded minutes after the nurse left, and my heart leapt when Fallon stepped into the room, his imposing figure filling the doorframe. Standing there, his shoulders looked incredibly wide. His piercing blue eyes swept over me, assessing, before his lips quirked into what might have been a smile. He pushed into the room, muscles on full display thanks to a tight, evergreen shirt. Behind him came Kane dressed in head-to-toe black, his energy tightly coiled, his dark eyes alert, and a grease smudge on his cheek. He never seemed able to calm down when he came to the hospital.
Though my chest constricted at the sight of them, part of me—a shameful, needy part—had hoped all five Alphas would come. That they'd form a protective circle around me, that I'd be enveloped in their combined scents, that I'd feel...what? Wanted? Cherished? Loved?What a foolish fantasy. Yet the way Fallon and Kane were looking at me made that fantasy feel painfully possible.
"Ready to blow this joint?" Kane asked, walking around me and checking over the room.
"More than ready," I answered, pushing myself carefully up from the bed. My abdomen protested with a dull throb, but it was nothing compared to the pain from those first few days after the accident.
“Is there anything we need to grab?” Kane was in the bathroom now, looking for anything I’d left behind.
“I have everything important.” I lifted Nitro’s carving and Fallon’s book into view.
Fallon stepped forward, his movements measured and precise. He reached out, wrapping his fingers around mine, his grey-blue eyes staring down at the items. “Did you like the book?” He breathed out, voice carefully controlled.
“I’m not sure,” I answered honestly. “The storyline was hard to follow.”
His gaze moved up, capturing mine. “We’ll read it again together,” he murmured. “I’ll make sure you understand.”
There seemed to be different, unspoken promises wrapped up in what he said, and my heart began to swell with happiness.Please keep treating me like this. Please keep your promises.
“Where are Xander and the others?” I didn’t mean to ask. I didn’t want to seem like Fallon and Kane coming wasn’t enough.
“The others wanted to come," Fallon said, his voice low and smooth. “Cirque obligations.”
“Right, of course. Preparing for the tour’s more important.” I tried to hide my disappointment, but it bled into every syllable I uttered.
“They wanted to be here.” Kane moved closer to us. “And, no, the tour is not more important, Lucy.”
