LOGIN(Cole)The nurse checks the line, checks the dressing, checks the monitor, then writes the time on the chart.“Infusion is complete,” she says. “He’s stable. The next phase is the rough one. His counts will drop. He may look worse before he looks better. Fever protocol is strict. Keep his environment calm at all times.”Her eyes flick between Jade and me, then she softens her voice. “Try to keep conversations… gentle.”Jade nods without looking up. Her hand stays on Owen’s forearm.Owen doesn’t wake. Somehow I was hoping he would. He’s barely been awake since he’s been in here.He’s pale and wiped out, mouth slightly open, breathing shallow but even. He looks so fragile and it makes everything in me go sharp and protective.The nurse finishes, then slips out and shuts the door behind her.Hospital quiet settles back in.Jade leans closer to Owen and smooths the blanket near his shoulder.She presses a kiss to his hairline, then sits back in the chair, eyes locked on his face as if wat
(Maya)Jade’s smile makes me go cold all over.I go into the room. Keaton stays in the corridor.Cole looks up from Lucy’s bed a second later, eyes widening.“Maya,” he says, and there’s relief in it, but it doesn’t touch me.My eyes stay on Jade.She’s seated too close to the bed. Too close to Lucy. Close enough to touch the blanket, close enough to touch my daughter.“Get out,” I say.Cole stares at me. “Maya. It’s okay, really.”“No,” I cut in, my voice low and hard. I don’t look away from Jade. “Get out of the room. Now.”Jade’s brows lift a fraction. Calm. Polite. Practiced.“I’m here for Lucy,” she says softly, as if she’s the only one in the room who cares.“You’re here for yourself,” I reply. “Leave.”Cole stands up fast, hand hovering over Lucy’s bed as if he can keep everyone calm by force.“Maya, listen to me,” he says. “You were dragged off. What choice did I have?”My stomach tightens.He keeps talking, voice controlled but urgent. “I need to get back to Owen. They’re pre
(Maya)They haven’t taken me back to the hospital.I’m still sitting in this room while they do whatever it is they are doing.I hear voices. Sounds like an argument. Suddenly the door opens.Keaton Vale walks in.For a second my lungs almost stop working. Relief hits hard enough to make my eyes sting.He looks at me. A quick scan—wrists, face, posture—then his gaze locks on mine.“Are you hurt?” he asks.“No,” I say. My voice is rough. “They told me I was free. But they haven’t let me go back to Lucy yet.”The woman from earlier stands near the door with a folder. Two men in suits hover behind her, arms folded, faces set.“Is she under arrest?” Keaton asks the woman who questioned me. “No. She is here because she had information we needed to understand,” the woman says.“Then she’s leaving,” Keaton replies.She lifts her folder slightly. “Mr. Vale, your client contacted a secure channel. We needed to close out the interview according to protocol.”Keaton keeps his voice even. “You c
(Maya)For one second, relief hits so hard I almost cry.He’s here. He’s alive. I did it.I step back from him. “Rhett—”His eyes lock on me. No warmth. No relief. No softness.Just anger held tight. “Don’t,” he says.“I was so scared you were dead.”“Right now, I’d prefer to be.”“Don’t say that. Tessa needs you.”“Yes, she does. And I went and left her when she needed me because of you.”“I… I’m sorry that happened… I never meant it to.”“No, you never do. You never mean to rain shit down on my life, but I still seem to take the hit anyway.”“I saved you,” I say. “I had to.”“You got me fired,” he repeats, flat. “The one thing I had left and now you’ve taken that away too.”“Rhett, why, why would they do that to you?” I don’t understand why they’d fire him.“I’m off the team,” he says. “I’m a security risk.”“But I told them you never told me anything.”“They pulled me. Said I’m compromised. Now they tell me your nightmares are a security breach. What a load of absolute bullshit.”M
(Maya)I don’t even know where they drive me. The windows are darkened and I can’t see anything outside.Now they lead me into a room, hands cuffed behind my back like some murderous criminal.A table. Two chairs. Camera in the corner. No window. No clock.They sit me down.A woman comes in last. Plain clothes. Clean posture. Calm face.She takes the chair across from me and sets a folder on the table.“Mrs. Vance,” she says. “May I call you Maya?““I much prefer it if you did. Can I get my hands free?”“Not yet. You contacted a secure channel.”“Cole Vance put me through. I didn’t know what number he called. I asked him to get me someone I could give information to.” I hold her gaze.“You used classified identifiers tied to an active operation,” she replies. “You used a code name and a location marker.”“I repeated what I heard.”“From whom,” she says.“I can’t tell you.”She pauses, “that is the wrong answer. We can keep you detained indefinitely until we get what we need. Or we can
(Maya)Lucy is in pre-op.She’s in the narrow hospital bed with the rails up, IV taped down, monitors blinking steadily. Her droopy eyes keep finding mine. Every time I move, she tracks me. Then they close fully.I stay right where I am. Hand on the rail. Body between her and the room.The anesthesiologist checks the chart. A nurse adjusts the line. No one rushes me. No one touches her yet.I keep waiting for someone to tell me this is officially starting. But I keep holding out for for one more minute.Then two men in suits are hovering outside. They are looking through the door glass at me.They don’t look at Lucy.They look at me.One side of the doors open and one man sticks his head in.“Mrs. Vance,” one of them says. “You need to come with us.”“No,” I say immediately. “My daughter is going into theatre. Who are you?”“You’re required elsewhere,” he replies.Dr. Nguyen turns slightly, professional, cautious. “This is pediatric pre-op.”The man flashes an ID. “Federal protective







