The light—
Too bright.
My chest—
I can’t breathe—
And then nothing holds steady.
Everything crashes together. The past. The present. The truth I didn’twant to see.
And as it all slams into me at once, I realize—
I didn’t lose everything in one moment.
It was all leading here.
Every choice. Every warning I heard and didn’t follow. Every sign I ignored.
And now—
I can’t tell if I’m waking up—
Or falling deeper into it.
11
Silas
I don’t leave the monitors.
Not really.
Even when I’m standing at the window, even when I’m watching her through the glass like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded—I’m still tracking everything. The feeds. The movement. The patterns.
Jace is behind me, running through footage, pulling faces, logging everything that matters. My men are quiet, locked in, waiting for direction.
But I’m not here for them.
I’m here for her.
Becca hasn’t moved in hours.
Too still.
Too quiet.
It’s wrong.
I’ve seen too many rooms like this. Too many bodies laid out under white lights, machines doing the work their bodies should be doing. I know what it looks like when someone doesn’t come back.
And I’m not lettingthat be her.
“She should’ve come to by now,” one of the doctors said earlier.
Should’ve.
I hate that word.
