From Katarina’s POV: Still At The Hospital
The hospital felt like a cage.
It was too white. Too quiet. Too slow.
Even the silence buzzed. Like it hated me.. I lay there staring at the ceiling and counting the cracks in the paint for the hundredth time. Vittorio was still out mostly. Some days, he mumbled. Twitched. Frowned like the world owed him a war. But his vitals were strong. The bastard was healing.
Just… not waking.
“Or maybe,” I whispered to myself, “maybe he doesn’t want to wake up. Not if she’s not in it.”
His Fiorella.
Always Fiorella.
I paced the room well, as far as I could. Guards outside the door pretending not to breathe too loudly. Guards in the hall. One even stood near the window like she might swan dive through it.
I can’t even take a f*****g walk.
I threw
