ZOE
The sound of the gurney reverberated more in my chest than in the hallway. Every squeak of the wheels against the hospital's waxed floor was like a reminder that my life was no longer mine, that I had signed it away with ink and desperation.
Asher lay there, still with pale skin, the oxygen mask covering half his face, and a tangle of cables and monitors marking his fragility. Loading him into the ambulance was a swift, professional procedure, as if my brother's life was just another task on the hospital's list.
I climbed in beside him, with my hands tightly clasped in my lap. I watched his motionless eyelashes, his slightly parted lips, and repeated to myself over and over that it had been worth it. That every absurd clause, every signature that chained me to Nikolai, made sense at
