Those words drained every bit of strength from my body.
I didn’t remember running - only the echo of my heels, the sting of cold air filling my lungs, the panic that kept twisting tighter with every step.
By the time I reached the security doors, my hands were trembling too badly to swipe my ID.
A guard let me in.
Daniel lay on a narrow cot, pale and sweating, his breathing shallow. His shirt was damp. His lips are colorless. For one terrifying moment, all I saw was Daniel broken, barely conscious, slipping away from me.
I stumbled to his side.
“Daniel,” I whispered, brushing my fingers against his forehead.
He flinched, then blinked slowly, trying to focus. His voice was barely there, hoarse and shredded.
“Jane…”
“I’m here.” I swallowed hard. “What happened to you?”
He tried to
