Lydia’s POV
My mother found me outside Xander’s apartment building, sitting on the curb with my knees pulled to my chest, staring at the flashing lights of an ambulance that had already come and gone.
I’d raced there the moment Priya’s frantic message reached me, something about guards and shouting overheard by a neighbor, and I’d arrived just in time to watch paramedics wheel Xander out on a stretcher, conscious but bloodied, refusing treatment with the same stubborn arrogance that defined nearly everything he did.
He’d caught my eye once, briefly, before they loaded him into the ambulance, an apologetic expression flickering across his battered features.
I took a step toward him. “Xander.”
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but one of the guards shut the ambulance
