Her head jerked up instantly.
The shift in her expression was immediate.
Confusion. Shock. Desperation.
“He’s in the ICU,” I added, my voice quieter now.
“Breathing on his own. Small... but fighting. The doctors say he’ll make it.”
For a fraction of a second—
Her entire face crumpled.
Relief hit her so hard it looked like pain.
Like she didn’t know how to process the fact that something she thought was lost—
Was still alive.
But it didn’t last.
Just as quickly—
The mask returned.
She pushed herself upright again, using the wall for support.
Her body trembled as she fought to stand.
Her legs wobbled beneath her weight.
She almost collapsed—
But caught herself at the last second.
“So what now?” she asked.
Her voice was ice-cold, each word laced with venom.
“Will you lock me up again?” she asked, her tone dangerously calm. “Throw me into another freezing room and watch while life slowly drips out of me?”
She took one deliberate step closer, eyes burning with quiet fury.
“After all, that seems to be your particular area of expertise.”
The words cut deep.
I advanced toward her, every step a weight, until my legs could carry me no more.
I dropped in front of her—hard—kneecaps slamming into the cracked concrete with a dull, punishing impact.
Pain shot up through my legs, sharp and grounding, but I didn’t care.
My head bowed.
For a man like me—
Kneeling meant something.
