Elena's POV
"He's stable. That's all I'm going to tell you."
Damian's voice was clipped, exhausted, the words tossed over his shoulder as he strode past my desk the next morning like the previous day hadn't happened at all… like I hadn't watched two grim-faced strangers carry a bleeding man off the elevator while Ruth gripped my wrist hard enough to bruise.
"Stable," I repeated. "That's it? No explanation?"
"Not today, Elena."
He disappeared into his office before I could push further, the frosted doors clicking shut with a finality that told me exactly how far I was going to get. I sat there a moment, jaw tight, gathering the same frustration I'd been swallowing for over a week now, and forced myself to breathe through it instead of following him inside to demand what I already knew
