She catches herself and shoots us a look sharp enough to cut.
“I’m fine.”
“Sure,” I say lightly.“You’re glowing.”
“That’s sleep deprivation,” she fires back.“Don’t romanticize it.”
Monty’s mouth does a small thing—barely a curve, gone instantly.I see it anyway.I file it away like a petty little trophy.
Inside, the hospital smells like disinfectant and burnt coffee.Vesper moves quicker, like speed might protect her from the answers waiting down the hall.
Philippe Lafontaine sits on the edge of an exam bed, a gown hanging wrong on him.Vesper’s father is supposed to be in flannel and work boots, barking orders at teenage boys and arguing with coaches about ice time.He’s supposed to be indestructible because that’s how daughters survive their childhood: believing their dad can’t break.
He looks up when we enter.
“Kiddo,” he says, trying to smile.
And just like that, the room tilts and Vesper’s face changes so fast it nearly takes my breath away.The sarcasm drops.The guard thins.She goes to him and wraps her arms around his shoulders like she’s holding on so she doesn’t fall.
Philippe pats her back awkwardly, gently.His hand hovers for a moment before landing.Like he’s scared one wrong touch will shatter her.
Monty stays by the door, his posture tense.Hands in his pockets, jaw set, watching everything with a quiet, unreadable focus that makes me want to hit something.Or him.
I move across the room, leaning against the counter like I’m not vibrating out of my skin.Close enough to be there.Far enough not to crowd her.
Philippe’s gaze finds mine.
“Callaway,” he says, voice frayed.“Didn’t expect you.Don’t you have a game tonight?”
I flash a grin that doesn’t reach my ribs.“Didn’t expect you to be here either.Bit of a health hiccup, huh?”
He gives a dry chuckle.“Old bastard’s body is finally revolting.”
“What did the doctor say?”Vesper’s voice comes out too bright.
The door opens before Philippe can answer.
“You must be Vesper.I’m his doctor.Blaire Aldridge.”She walks in with a tablet in one hand.Then she looks at Monty and me.“And you are?”
“Friends,” Vesper responds, then amends, “family.They’re family.”
We’re family?If she chose me, maybe we’d be something close to it.But right now we’re in fucking limbo pretending we’re friends and I don’t love her.
Dr.Aldridge nods once, accepting it without curiosity.“Okay.I’m glad you’re here.Philippe, seems like you’ve got a very protective crew.He’s going to need all the backup he can get.”
“Stubborn,” Philippe mutters, earning himself a look from the doctor.
“Your father had a syncope episode,” Dr.Aldridge explains.“Fainting, brought on by a combination of dehydration, low caloric intake, and likely orthostatic hypotension.Nothing catastrophic on the scans, but enough to raise alarms.”
Vesper goes very still.Her eyes fix on the doctor like she’s memorizing every syllable.
I can see her trying to stay upright.I can feel her unraveling by degrees.
“Why wasn’t this caught before?”she asks, voice deceptively calm.
“That’s what we’re sorting out,” Dr.Aldridge says.“The good news is, his neurologic exam is normal.Our team has done a thorough job.There are no signs of stroke.No acute red flags on imaging.”
Vesper exhales like she’s been holding her lungs hostage.
