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Leo watches in fury, and I know it’s time. The thirty days are nearly over, but cutting them short is needed.

I carry Katerina to the waiting car, slipping into the back seat with her still clutched tight to my chest. She whimpers as I settle her in my lap, her fingers tangling in my shirt, her face pressing hard into the crook of my neck.

“Drive,” I bark at my driver, then we’re moving, the farmhouse and its horrors receding behind us.

In the darkness of the car, Katerina shivers against me, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. I tighten my arms around her, murmuring reassurances into her hair.

“I’ve got you, love,” I whisper. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you. Never again.”

But she just presses closer, her lips brushing my ear again as she speaks. “He–he was going to send me back in pieces,” she breathes, her voice thin with pain and exhaustion. “Russo. He said…he said he’d break me.”

Red rage washes through me, so intense it borders on madness. I need to make Russo and Luca suffer a thousand times over for every moment of fear and agony they put her through.

I swallow down my emotions and hold Katerina tighter, my lips brushing her temple. “He’ll never touch you again,” I promise. “I’m going to make the rest of his life very, very short.”

She nods against my chest, her breath hitching on a sob. Then her body goes slack and her breathing slows. Panic surges through me. I can’t let her fall asleep. She most definitely has a concussion and even I know you can’t let a concussed patient sleep.

“Katerina,” I say urgently, shaking her. “Katerina, wake up.”

But Katerina refuses to wake up, her eyes closed.

So I do the only thing I know that will wake her up.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” I say casually. “I really don’t think the baby should be vaccinated. Maybe those anti-vaxxers have a point. I mean, do we really know what’s in those shots? Could be all sorts of nasty stuff.”

For a moment, there’s no response. Then Katerina stirs, her head lifting from my shoulder, her eyes narrowing as she glares up at me.

“What did you just say?” she demands, her voice rough with exhaustion but still sharp with indignation.

I shrug, fighting back a grin. Got her. “I’m just saying, maybe we should be more skeptical of the medical establishment. They don’t always have our best interests at heart, you know.”

Katerina pushes herself upright, wincing a little as the movement jostles her injuries. But there’s fire in her eyes now, a spark of life that warms me to my core.

“I swear to god, you better be fucking with me. That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” she snaps, jabbing a finger into my chest. “Vaccines are one of the greatest public health achievements in history. They’ve saved millions of lives and eradicated diseases that used to decimate entire populations. And the science behind them is rock solid, Nico. It’s not some conspiracy theory cooked up by Big Pharma.” She scowls. “I will not allow my child to walk through life not being vaccinated! I will not! And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

I hold up my hands in mock surrender, unable to keep the smile from my face any longer. “Okay, okay, I yield. You’ve convinced me, Dr. Sokolov.”

She glares at me a moment longer, but I can see the corners of her mouth twitching, fighting against a smile of her own. “You’re an ass,” she grumbles, but there’s no real feeling in it.

“True,” I agree easily. “But I’m your ass. And I got you talking, didn’t I?”

Katerina’s expression softens, understanding dawning in her brown eyes. “You were trying to keep me awake,” she murmurs. “You were worried about the concussion.”

I nod, sobering a little as I brush a strand of hair back from her face. “I can’t lose you, Katerina,” I say quietly. “Not now. Not ever. So yeah, I’ll play dirty if I have to. I’ll piss you off, I’ll argue with you until you’re ready to strangle me—whatever it takes to keep you with me.”

She leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “You really are an ass,” she whispers. But there’s affection in her tone and a tenderness that makes my heart clench in my chest.

“And you love me for it,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead, my heart pounding.

She hums a little, a sleepy sound of agreement. But then she’s forcing her eyes open again, visibly struggling against the pull of exhaustion. “Talk to me,” she tells me. “Keep me awake.”

So I do. I tell her stories, memories from my childhood and funny stories from my school days. I tell her about the first time I ever saw her, even down to remembering what she wore. And through it all, I keep touching her—my hands in her hair, my lips on her brow, my heartbeat steady and strong beneath her ear.

Somewhere in the long, dark hours of that drive, she stirs against me.

“I knew you’d come for me,” she rasps, her voice slightly slurred. “I knew you’d find me.”

Some last, stubborn wall around my heart cracks at those words, a final barrier between me and the overwhelming tide of emotion that threatens to sweep me away.