Chapter Eleven.
Franchesca's Pov.
I returned to my room shortly after midnight, my boots sounding lightly on the exceedingly shiny floor. The clinic wing had been uncannily quiet. Alessandro was improving, his breathing was smoother, and his reflexes stronger. For the first time in days, I permitted myself hope. Just a little bit.
I closed the door softly behind me, listening as the faint click echoed in the quiet house. The amber glow of my bedside lamp stretched out yellow shadows on the cream walls. Everything was too quiet.
I shrugged out of the coat and flung it over the chair, pulled off the gloves, bending bruised fingertips from the long day. Red marks around my knuckles pulsed numbly. And the smell of antiseptic still hovered on my palms like a ghost. I stood up, walked over t
