Freya drifted in and out of a sleep that wasn't sleep. Sounds reached her through water. Machines counted. Air moved in tubes. Hands turned her with practiced care. Pain rose and fell like slow weather.
When the world came nearer, she heard Jackson first. His voice did not suit the place.
“Fix this," he kept saying. “Do whatever it takes. She cannot stay like this."
A doctor answered in a steady tone. “Sir, she suffered severe burns before. The fall added head trauma. Her body is under stress. We need time. We can't promise more."
Something hard took Jackson's hand—wall, table, doorframe. “Time is not an answer."
Freya caught words like swelling, clot, monitor, pressure. They slid away. Olivia cried in the background. Jackson told her to stop. His voice was sharp. “Enough. You're not
