“Feels like it,” she shoots back.
“Then let me rephrase,” I prompt. “I need you to trust your instincts.”
She hesitates because she does trust them. She just doesn’t alwayslistento them.
“…Okay,” she says finally, not fully agreeing but not resisting either. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
Not enough, but it’s something. I nod once. “Good.”
Chapter 42
Liv
The training bay smells like antiseptic and rubber. Clean in a way that never quite feels clean enough.
Mannequins line the far wall, some half-dismantled, ribs exposed in plastic cross-sections, while others are fully intact with synthetic skin stretched tight over molded muscle. There’s a gurney in the center of the room, monitors already hooked up, wires trailing like veins waiting to be filled.
I roll my shoulders once, trying to shake off the tension that’s been sitting there since I walked in.
“Relax, Carter,” Daniels calls from across the room, not looking up from the clipboard in his hand. “It’s just training.”
Just training.
Right.
“Funny,” I mutter, stepping toward the gurney. “That’s what people say right before they make it miserable.”
That gets a smirk out of him. It’s brief and gone just as fast.
“Good,” he says. “Means you’re paying attention.”
I glance at the monitor. Flat baseline, no vitals yet. Waiting for the scenario to start.
“Advanced sim today,” he continues, finally looking at me. “You’ve been pushing through the standard runs too easily.Figured we’d give you something closer to real-world chaos.”
My stomach tightens, just slightly. “Define chaos.”
Daniels taps something on the tablet in his hand. The monitor flickers to life. The heart rate is erratic, oxygen dropping, and blood pressure is unstable.
“Multiple traumas,” he heaves. “Unknown downtime. Suspected internal bleeding. Compromised airway.”
Of course it is.
I step closer to the patient… mannequin… but dressed in street clothes this time. Jeans and a hoodie with fake blood soaked through the fabric at the abdomen and side.
More realistic than I’d like.
“Scene safe?” I ask automatically, even though we’re inside.
Daniels lifts a brow. “You tell me.”
I scan the room out of habit, checking the exits, corners, and for anything out of place. It’s empty except for us, but I don’t skip the step.
“Scene’s safe.”
“For now,” he says.
That qualifier sits wrong, but I don’t have time to unpack whether it’s a curveball he’s about to throw at me.
