CHAPTER FORTY-TWO:
The hospital lights buzzed overhead like angry wasps as Lyra gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles white. “You’re telling me my daughter might never walk again if we don’t do this surgery right now?”
The doctor’s face was grim, clipboard shaking slightly in his hands. “The fall from the warehouse chase aggravated an old injury we missed. June’s spine is compromised. Without immediate intervention, the damage could be permanent. But the procedure carries risks—paralysis, infection, even—”
“Stop.” Dimitri’s voice cut through the room like a blade. He stood beside Lyra, one hand on her shoulder, the other clenched at his side. “Don’t you dare list the ways we could lose her. She’s eight years old. She draws flowers and believes the world is good because we told her it co
