EMMALINE
Time drags.
The white walls blur together until I can’t tell where the corners begin or end. The steady beeping of machines is the only thing reminding me that time hasn’t stopped completely.
Nurses slip in and out, checking tubes, adjusting drips, murmuring things I barely hear. None of them look at me for long. Maybe it’s pity. Maybe it’s discomfort. I don’t care enough to tell the difference.
When the door opens again, my body is stiff from waiting. I half rise, expecting the doctor, but it isn’t him.
It’s Enzo.
He steps inside, his broad shoulders filling the doorway, and gives me a small nod. I nod back, pushing myself to my feet on instinct. His expression is carved from stone, but his eyes flick briefly to Alexander before settling on me.
“We’ve stationed guards,”
