The hospital smelled of disinfectant and quiet sorrow. Elena had spent most of the night watching her mother sleep, listening to the steady beeping of the monitor and the soft hum of machines. But her mind was elsewhere.
Lucian.
The thought of him wouldn’t leave her alone. The gunshots. The way he’d appeared out of nowhere in that dark street. The way he had ordered everyone around without raising his voice. And now, the mysterious “week off” that Mr. Bennett said came from above.
By morning, she knew what she had to do.
“I’ll be back later,” Elena whispered to her sister, who was half-asleep in the chair beside the bed. “Take care of Mom.”
Isolde mumbled something and nodded without opening her eyes.
Sofia was still sleeping too, her head wrapped in fresh bandages. Elena didn’t wake
