The door opens.
The world slows.
Emma steps out, her face pale, her shoulders slumped, and she looks like she’s aged ten years in ten minutes.
“No,” I say immediately, shaking my head. My voice is barely a whisper. “No. No, no—please—”
Her eyes meet mine.
Haunted.
“She went into sudden cardiac arrest. She’s gone,” Emma says, her voice breaking around the words like they’re too heavy to speak.
And everything inside me dies.
I fall to my knees, the sound that rips from my throat unearthly—raw, primal, the scream of something wild and broken.
I rush to the table, my chest heaving, my hands trembling as I reach for her. Hope lies still, her skin pale, lips parted just enough to remind me of the smile she gave me this morning. This morning, our mating day. My heart cracks under its wei
