The first breath I pulled in felt like broken glass.
I bent over, coughing so hard my ribs ached, one hand braced on the nurse’s station while the other pressed against my throat. It still burned from the gas, hot and raw, like I’d swallowed smoke, and it had settled there, refusing to leave. My eyes watered. My head swam. For a second, the hospital lights above me turned into white smears.
“Jane.” Daniel’s hand closed around my elbow. “Look at me.”
I forced my eyes up. He was close, his face tight with panic he only showed when things were bad. “I’m okay,” I lied.
“No, you’re not.” His voice dropped. “Stay here a second.”
I shook my head. “My father. I need to see my father.”
“I know.” He glanced down the hall, then toward the stairwell we’d just come through. “Something’s wrong on
