“Mia.” The sound came out broken.
She was crumpled inside, knees drawn, head resting on them. Shaking.
“Caleb,” she whispered.
He was in front of her, dropping to his knees. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. You’re safe.”
She tried to smile and hissed instead. She clutched her side, tears spilling down her face. Relief washed through him, tangled with a fear he couldn’t shake. His hands curled into fists at his sides, useless, desperate to fix something he couldn’t touch.
“Don’t move,” he said, hands hovering, terrified to touch the wrong place. “Stay still.”
Nate was already on the radio. “Dispatch, we have her. Female found alive. Requesting ambulance, south inlet access road. Possible rib injury, dehydration.”
“Copy,” came the reply. “EMS en route.”
Caleb eased a blanket around her shoulders, careful, so careful. His fingers shook as he tucked it in. She leaned into him anyway, breath shallow, fingers fisting weakly into his shirt as if letting go might undo everything.
“Roy, Dana,” she whispered.
His throat closed. “We know, sweetheart,” he said softly. “You’re safe now.”
Sirens cut through the night, distant at first and then closer. Red and blue lights washed the trees and reflected off the water.
The medics moved fast. They slipped her onto a gurney, and when Caleb tried to follow, a hand stopped him.
“Not yet,” one of them said.
Nate drove. Caleb couldn’t. His hand wouldn’t stop shaking.
He couldn’t get Mia’s face out of his mind. The haunted look in her eyes. How thin she was. How filthy. The locker had reeked of vomit, rot and stagnant water. Things no one should ever have to breathe in, let alone survive.
Anger surged hot in his chest. He was going to kill Dana when he found her. No punishment would ever be enough.
But beneath the fury, there was something heavier, more concerning.
Fear.
Caleb knew men who had been held captive who never fully came back. Nightmares. Panic. The PTSD was debilitating.
He was grateful beyond words that Mia was alive. Terrified of what it had cost her.
He just prayed it hadn’t cost her more than he could help her carry.
The hospital roomwas quiet except for the beeping machines and muted voices. The air smelled of antiseptic, sharp enough to sting his nose.
Mia lay pale against the white sheets, with an oxygen line tucked beneath her nose and an IV taped to her arm. Her chest rose and fell, each breath measured, shallow but steady.
Caleb sat by her bedside watching the numbers on the monitor even though he didn’t fully understand them. Steady was good. Steady meant she was still here.
A nurse came in and adjusted the blanket. “She’s stable. A couple of cracked ribs. Dehydration. We’ll run some more tests, but she’s strong.”
Caleb nodded, his throat too tight to manage words.
The nurse lowered the lights and left. Caleb leaned toward her just to hear Mia breathe. The faint rise and fall of her chest, proof she was still here.
Mia stirred.
“Hey, I’m here.”
