POV — Estela
The look on Killian’s face stops me cold.
The second he answered the phone, the color drained from his skin. His jaw tightened like it might shatter, and his eyes closed as if bracing for an impact. Then he turned to me, urgency radiating off him in suffocating waves.
“We have to go. Now.”
“What happened?” I asked, shooting to my feet as panic surged through me.
“It’s Paisley,” he said, voice gravel-rough.
The room spun. My stomach twisted, threatening to empty itself.
“Is she okay?” My hand searched blindly for the edge of the counter, trying to steady the trembling that overtook me.
“They rushed her into emergency surgery,” Killian said, already moving for the door. “That’s all I know.”
I looked to Linda, desperate, and she was already holding out my bag.
“Go,” she
