Chapter 6

I ran down the stairs swiftly while Damon followed- talking to someone on his phone. I could only assume it had something to do with the situation.

Thoughts of my mother in critical condition filled me with guilt. I should have visited her sooner.

The security guards patrolling didn't let me pass until Damon ordered them to. Rocky was already standing by the car, opening the passenger seat. I got in before Damon and fastened my seatbelts.

The car was quiet, the weight of worry hanging in the air as we got to the hospital. By the time we reached our destination, I jumped out of the car and went inside.

The reception recognized me instantly. “Emma, you're here.” She gave me a form to fill in immediately and began typing on her monitor. “Is he with you?” She gestured towards Damon.

“Yes, he is,” I hesitated.

“Then he'll also need to fill in a form.” The woman said calmly.

“Is that really necessary? We're in a hurry.” I asked impatiently.

“It's our policy. If he doesn't sign in, he can't go with you.”

Before I could say anything more, Damon collected the form and wrote down his name.

“We don't have much time.” He urged. That moment I understood that he shared my worries.

“She's in the ICU on the third floor.” The woman said to me.

We slipped into the elevator, the metallic doors sealing our nerves inside. I jabbed the floor number with a trembling finger, barely waiting for the ding before bolting out. But just as we turned the corner toward the ICU, we came face-to-face with the doctor—his expression enough to stop us in our tracks.

“Doctor, how is she?” I ran to him with tears in my eyes. The Doctor looked at me with pity—his hesitation apparent.

“Your mother is in critical condition right now. Her vitals has decreased drastically. She has stopped breathing on her own, we had to intubate.” His grim expression showed the seriousness of the situation.

“C-can I see her?” My voice trembled.

“Yes, but you need to wear some protective gear.” The Doctor signaled a nurse to come over and help me prepare.

I had to sanitize my hands and wear gloves and a face mask. The nurse helped me wear the gown before letting me in.

I’d seen her unresponsive before—still as stone, lost in a world I couldn’t reach—but nothing prepared me for the tangle of tubes or the IV bags hanging like quiet sentinels above her head. That sterile silence stung sharper than I expected, and my chest tightened with a pain that had no name.

I held her hand gently. It felt so thin and fragile that tears welled up in my eyes.

“I'm sorry, mom. I should have come sooner. Please forgive your selfish daughter.” I put her hand on my cheek—seeking warmth of some sorts. I didn't find it. All I felt was guilt and sorrow. The beeping sound from the morning echoed loudly in the room.

During all this, Damon stood awkwardly at the side, watching everything unfold. His eyes never left me when I entered the ICU. He stood by the door, as if guarding us from danger. When my time was up, I walked towards him.

“How is she?” Damon sounded concerned.

We sat down on one of the free visitor chairs. “She's fighting for her life. I just wish I visited her more. I'm sure my recent absence worried her.”

“That's not your fault though” he uttered. He placed his hand on my knee. I could only give a small smile. Feeling his sincerity, I felt the need to open up to him.

“My mother has advanced MS, a stage of multiple sclerosis (MS) where a person's capacity to operate independently is impacted by more severe symptoms. It's been four years since she's been hospitalized and her condition keeps getting worse.” A tear escaped from my eye.

“Your mother has survived this long. She won't give up so easily. I'm sure she'll recover. Just be patient.” Damon's words reassured me. I nodded.

The Doctor came moments later and I went to speak with him. When I finished, Damon was sitting down where I left him. Our eyes met when I approached him.

“Any news?” He questioned.

“He said that since my mother's condition has worsened, I have to add to the current payment so they can continue the procedure. I can't afford to waste any more time.”

“Done.” Damon got up.

My mouth gaped open. “You don't have to do that–”

“While you're with us, you won't be able to work freely until the Black Falcon has been captured. You are my responsibility till then.”

My eyes began to water again. “I don't know what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything. Besides, it's something I want to do. I know what it's like to lose someone who cherish. I'll make sure it doesn't happen to you.”

A sad expression appeared on my face. I wanted to comfort him but I knew better. Remembering our earlier conversation I asked him, “You said you had something to tell me before. What was it?”

“It's nothing serious. I can tell you on the way home.” He paused, “Do you want to stay for a few more minutes?”

“I wanted to spend the night but I was told that's not allowed. Can we stay for a few more minutes before we leave?”

“As long as we don't take too long. It's already very late. I've been informed that some of the Black Falcon members were around this area.”

Feeling thirsty, I decided to go to the hospital’s cafeteria and get some water but Damon wanted to go. “Just in case the doctor has something else to say” he said casually and left.

While waiting for him, I overheard some men fighting nearby. The disturbance attracted everyone's attention—mine too.

My eyes widened in horror when I saw who the men were. One of them was a burly man in his late thirties. His left arm was bleeding profusely—probably from a gun shot.

Apparently, he had been asked to wait his turn before the doctors attended to him but he refused. He had the looks of a street thug which was probably why the doctors hesitated to calm him down. The other one looked familiar—too familiar. When he turned his head I understood why.

The sterile hallway suddenly felt colder, narrower, like the walls were inching in with every breath I took. Nurses bustled past in a blur, but the man at the end of the corridor was all I could see.

My stomach twisted.

That neck. That ink.

The coiled viper, etched in black and red, slithered up from beneath his collar, its fangs frozen mid-strike—just like the night everything changed. Just like the nightmare that hunted me since.

Our eyes locked.

Recognition flared.

His lips curled—not into a smile, but something worse. A promise.

My lungs forgot how to work. He’d found me.

And this time, he wasn't hiding in the shadows. He quickly pulled out a gun and aimed at my head.