[Nikolai]
The ambulance was cramped and suffocating despite its actual size.
I sat pressed against the cool metal wall, hyperaware of every sound: the steady beep of monitoring equipment, the rumble of the engine beneath us, and the noise of the sirens. Even Phoebe's shallow breathing from where she lay strapped to the gurney between us.
My father occupied the bench space beside me. He hadn't said a word since we'd climbed in, just sat there with his hands folded in his lap, watching everything with those judgmental eyes that never seemed to miss a detail.
Isolde stood near the front of the ambulance, having some sort of deep conversation with the paramedics. She was gesturing as she spoke, her voice clear and confident despite the cramped space and urgent circumstances.
"—pressure ap
