“Inez… Christina…” Her voice breaks, softer now but still shaking. “We have to go back—”
That hits something dark in me.
Something cold.
They’re not getting away with this.
Not one of them.
“Give her something,” I snap, my voice cutting sharp without even looking at the doctor.
“Her pressure is already—”
“Give. Her. Something.” I don’t raise my voice—but there’s no room for argument in it.
I won’t watch her tear herself apart like this.
Notafter what they did to her.
Not after I got her out.
The doctor doesn’t argue again.
I feel her hand in mine—tense, shaking, trying to hold onto something that isn’t there.
“Becs,” I say, lower now, controlled again. “Look at me.”
Slowly—
She does.
Her eyes finally lock onto mine.
And I feel it.
That shift.
Recognition.
Not full.
Not clear.
But something.
Something familiar.
Something that steadies her just enough to break through the panic.
“That’s it,” I murmur, not letting her slip away from it. “Stay with me. You’re okay.”
Her breathing stutters, still uneven—but slowing.
Not fighting as hard.
The medication hits her system a second later.
I see it.
