Rowan calls Ethan first. She puts the phone on speaker at my request, and I listen as she navigates the conversation with the same precision she uses in surgery.
“Ethan, I need you to listen without interrupting,” she begins, her voice firm.
“Ro, what's going on?” he asks immediately, suspicion already coloring his tone.
“The accident wasn't random,” she continues. “There are questions about whether someone was trying to scare me. Sovarin Biomedical already had corporate security involvedbecause of unrelated threats, and they offered me a place to stay until things are sorted out.”
Silence on the other end. Then, “What threats?”
“I can’t go into details,” Rowan answers. “But the company takes employee safety seriously, and they have resources I don’t. I agreed to let them help.”
“You agreed,” Ethan repeats, disbelief evident. “Ro, this sounds insane. You don’t even work for them. You work for the hospital.”
“I know,” she says quietly. “That’s exactly why I hesitated. But this isn’t about working for them. It’s about safety. There will be professional security. Trained and vetted. I won’t be alone.”
Ethan's voice rises. “Who?”
“His name is Leonid Markov,” Rowan replies, glancing at me. “He works in private security. You can meet him if it makes you feel better.”
Another pause. Then, grudgingly, “I want to meet him.”
“Done,” Rowan agrees. “I’ll arrange it.”
Ethan's tone softens slightly. “Are you sure about this?”
“I am,” Rowan answers, and the conviction in her voice surprises even me. “I trust them to keep me safe.”
Ethan exhales loudly. “Fine. But I’m checking in on you every day. No exceptions.”
“I would expect nothing less,” Rowan replies, a faint smile touching her lips.
They end the call, and Rowan sets the phone down on the desk. She looks drained, her shoulders slumping as if the conversation took everything she had left.
“That went better than expected,” I observe.
“He’ll still investigate,” Rowan warns. “He’ll look into Sovarin Biomedical. Into you. And Leo.”
“Let him. He’ll find nothing that contradicts the story we gave him.”
Rowan picks up the phone again and dials her mother. This conversation is shorter and more reassuring. She uses the same language we discussed, framing the situation as a temporary precaution rather than an ongoing threat. Her mother asks fewer questions than Ethan, her concern focused more on Rowan's physical recovery than the logistics of the arrangement.
When Rowan ends the call, she looks at me with exhaustion in her eyes. “What now?”
“Now we move you,” I answer. “Polina will take you to gather your essentials. Mikel will ensure the apartment is ready. Leo will meet you there within the hour.”
Rowan stands, swaying slightly. I move toward her instinctively, but she holds up a hand to stop me. “I can manage.”
“I know you can,” I reply. “But you don’t have to.”
Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the distance between us feels insurmountable. Then she nods once and moves toward the door.
Before she reaches it, I call her name. “Rowan.”
She turns, her hand on the doorframe.
“This isn’t about controlling you,” I tell her, keeping my voice low. “It’s about narrowing the risk until we understand it. I won’t keep you anywhere you don’t agree to be.”
She studies me for a long moment, then murmurs, “I hope you mean that.”
