Rain smeared the hospital windows like grief trying to hide.
Aniya lay motionless, her breathing shallow but steady.
Antonio sat beside her bed, stitches tight against his ribs, one hand wrapped around hers like a tether.
A nurse entered quietly. “We need to transport her to post-op."
“She's stable?"
“Touch and go."
He nodded, kissed Aniya's knuckles, then whispered, “I'll follow. Always."
---
Across the corridor, Leonardo lay pale, IV lines curling from both arms.
His consigliere stood beside him, clipboard in hand.
“She's alive," the man said.
Leonardo exhaled. “Good."
“You need rest."
He reached for the clipboard. “One more signature."
“You've given enough."
“No." Leonardo's voice cracked. “Not yet."
He scrawled his name on the bottom of the form: *Transfer of Route Hold
