The room was quiet when Dominic entered.
Not silent—machines hummed softly, the steady rhythm of a monitored life—but quiet in a way that felt distant. Detached.
Emma sat propped against the hospital bed, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the window. The light outside had dimmed, turning everything inside colder, sharper.
She didn’t look at him immediately.
She knew he was there.
Dominic closed the door behind him and walked in slowly. His eyes moved over her—bandaged head, bruises fading along her cheek, her leg immobilized.
For a brief moment, something flickered in his expression.
Something unguarded.
Then it was gone.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Emma’s lips curved faintly.
“The same.”
No warmth.
No hostility.
Just absence.
Dominic stepped closer.
“You should be resti
