God, I hope I fly. I can’t handle another fall.
Quin swallows, strained as he says, “We can get apaternity test if you’d like. She’s far enough along that…”
A paternity test. The mere thought sends a shiver down my spine. It’s like opening Pandora’s box, unveiling truths that could change everything.
“What about Emery?” My voice trembles. “Does she…” Oh no... “Do you think she knows? Does she even…” My gut clenches. “Does she even want kids?” My breath catches in my throat. “Her heart… Can… Can it take a pregnancy?”
Quin’s jaw clenches. “I’m not sure how her condition affects pregnancy, but I’ll find out.”
I sink into the uncomfortable waiting room chair, more panicked now than when I first stepped foot into this goddamn building. She’s alive. She survived surgery. It’s a miracle. A true, honest-to-God, miracle.
She’s a survivor. Emery’s always been a survivor. And her baby… Her baby could be a survivor too. Her baby. Our baby. Or his. It could be his. It could be Quin’s. Or, if Emery decides it's not worth the risk, it could be no one’s baby. That thought alone pains me.
“Quin…” I glance up at him, tone somber. “Will they be okay?”
His features harden. “Emerywill be fine. She’ll be fine.”
I tilt my head heavenward to a God who has not been kind to me and pray that this time, he hears my cries.
Save them.
THE STATISTICS
EMERY
My eyelids flutter,heavy with grogginess, as I slowly drift back into consciousness. The room swims into focus—it's large, filled with the clinical scent of antiseptic yet strangely warmer, less sterile than the rooms I've been in before. Pain pulses in my chest, and then I remember. Toni. The gun. The bullet. The bullets. The memory hits me so damn hard, and I can’t stifle the pained moan that tumbles past my lips.
Two blurry figures rush to my bedside, their faces gradually coming into focus as they draw nearer. Damon and Quin hover above me, their expressions a mix of relief and worry, but it’s exhaustion that stands out the most.
Damon reaches for my hand, his grip tight with emotion. "You're awake. Oh thank God, you're awake."
Quin leans down, pressing a soft, careful kiss on my temple. "I'm so sorry, darling. I'm so sorry that?—"
I interrupt, my voice hoarse and strained. "Is she dead?"
Damon and Quin exchange a glance, their features hardening with the truth I so desperately don’t want to hear. I clench my jaw, steeling myself for the answer.
"Tell me. Is she...?”
Quin swallows, then shakes his head. “No, she’s not. Barry shot her in the shoulder before she could…” His lip twitches. “The FBI have her. She’ll…she’ll likely plead insanity. But she’s going away, Emery. She’s?—”
Not dead.
Not dead. Not dead. Not dead.
But she would’ve been. A second later and… Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. How could I have been so stupid? So arrogant? I should’ve known. I should’ve seen the signs. She didn’t need the truth. She didn’t want it. She’s pleading insanity. But is she? Maybe…maybe not. But she’s alive. God, at least she’s still alive.
Pain flares through my body and soul as I push back the muddled regret and relief. She’s alive. She’s caught. And that’s all that matters.
Wincing, I glance around the hospital room, taking in the various machines and monitors surrounding me. I’m also alive. I’m… My gaze lands on a second heart monitor and my brows knit together.
"What..." I whip my head back to Quin and Damon, my pulse racing with a sudden dread. "Why is there—” A sweet, almost magical smile spreads across Damon's face as he places a gentlehand on my stomach, over the thin blanket covering me. Why is he… “No... I'm not…” I trail off, reality dawning on me as I catch the fear in Quin's eyes, his gaze darting away from mine.
"You're pregnant, Emery," Damon says softly, his thumb caressing the fabric over my abdomen.
My breath catches in my throat. Pregnant. A tidal wave of emotions crashes over me—shock, disbelief, fear, but also a glimmer of something else, something I can't quite name.
"I'm...pregnant?" The words feel foreign on my tongue. They’re words I never thought I’d speak. Or live. Panic bursts through me, and I remember my parents’ warning. I can’t get Dr. Yang’s voice out of my head. We were safe. I thought we were safe. We never talked about it. I never thought we’d…
