AIDEN'S POV
The hospital was too quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that brought peace—but the kind that coiled around your throat, suffocating you with an unease you couldn't quite place. It had been hours since Cheryl was admitted, but I still hadn't left. I couldn’t. The thought of her waking up alone in this sterile, impersonal room made my stomach turn.
I sat beside her bed, arms resting on my knees, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest beneath the thin hospital blanket. Stable. That’s what the doctors said. But I had seen the blood, the way her fingers had trembled when she reached for me, the unfocused glaze in her eyes before she passed out in my arms.
Stable didn't f*****g cut it.
I exhaled sharply and dragged a hand down my face. My head was pounding, exhaustion pressing a
