How is she?” I ask, my voice rough, desperate.
The doctor looks tired but gives a small nod. “She’s stable,” he says. “The bullet missed her heart, but it was close. She’s out of danger now, but she needs rest. A lot of it.” He informs us.
Relief hits me like a wave, and I let out a shaky breath, tears burning my eyes. The fear and guilt that had been eating me throughout the surgery lessens and I suddenly feel like I can finally breathe.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice breaking.
The doctor nods.
“ You don't need to say that. It's our duty and responsibility.” He answers. It might be a routine to him, something he does every time but to me,it's a saving grace. It's a much needed miracle.
The thought of never seeing Hera's smile almost made me crazy.
“Can I see her?” I request.
“She’
