All Chapters of He Came Back Running : Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Maya's POV The television in the corner of the room was muted... I had left it on because the silence without it was too heavy, and the silence with it was at least punctuated by moving images that gave my eyes somewhere to go that wasn't Alex's face The news ticker at the bottom of the screen kept cycling through the same phrases...... wedding shooting, investigation ongoing, Voss family statement pending, and I read it each time without absorbing it. Outside the hospital, apparently, people had opinions Inside this room, the only thing that mattered was the monitor and the drip and the slow, steady evidence of a body doing what bodies did when they were healing I had changed out of the dress at some point. A nurse had brought clothes... Catherine had sent them, the message read, from the bag in the fam

Maya's POV The doctor came back at two. Not the surgeon... the attending on night rounds, younger. He checked the monitors. Checked Alex's chart. Then he looked at me. "The movements earlier," I said before he could begin. "What were they?" "Involuntary muscle activity," he said. "After major trauma, surgery, significant blood loss, and the medication load he's been on.... the body sometimes does that as it processes. The nervous system recalibrating." He held my gaze. "It's something we watch. It doesn't automatically mean deterioration" "Does it mean he's closer to waking?" I said. "It can be a sign of movement toward consciousness," he said. "Or it can simply be the body doing what bodies do during recovery. I don't want to offer a reading that turns out to be wrong." I looked at Alex's face "When will he wake up?" I said. The doctor looked at the chart. Then back at me "I can't give you a reliable answer to that," he said. His voice had the careful honesty of someone w

Zara's POV The documents had been on my desk since eight. By ten-thirty I had moved them twice.... once to the left, once back to the center, and had not read a word of either stack. My assistant had come in at nine with coffee and messages and had looked at my face and left without asking whether I needed anything, which was the kind of reading of a room that made people good at their jobs. I sat at my desk and looked through the window at the harbour and thought about the garden. The music had been the first thing. The string quartet that Catherine had arranged, playing something she had chosen with the care she brought to every detail of the event. I had been at the edge of the guest seating.... the position that communicated I was there without communicating I had been invited, the edge that I had become accustomed to occupying in every space connected to Alex's life. The vows had started. I had been watching his face. He had been looking at hers. And then. Th

Mason's POVI arrived at the building earlier than usual..... earlier than almost anyone else, the lobby security desk manned by the overnight shift who nodded at my card without the particular awareness that came with a full building. The corridors were quiet. The executive floor was empty.I sat at the desk that was mine by shareholder standing, not by title, and opened the first report.The lightness had been there when I woke upI had noticed it the way you noticed the absence of something you had been carrying... not the presence of something good, but the temporary suspension of weight. The previous night had produced a kind of distance from the accumulation of the past weeks. Not resolution. Distance.I had come in early because early meant work, and work was the one context in which everything operated on terms I understood.The reports were in front of me. I read themThe numbers told a story that the public coverage had been suggesting but not quanti

Selina's POV I had come to tell him about the baby. The fever had broken that morning.... the caregiver had called at seven with the relief in her voice of someone who had been watching a small person through a difficult night and had seen them come out the other side. I had wanted to tell Mason in person rather than by message. That was why I was here That was why I had come through the door. The room communicated everything in its first second Mason. The secretary. The desk between them that was not functioning as a desk. The expression on his face that had not yet adjusted to the arrival of a witness. I set my bag down on the floor. Not a decision. The body making a statement before the mind had finished assembling the sentence. I laughed. The sound came out wrong .... short, contained, the kind that arrived when something was the opposite of funny and the only available response was the one that looked like its mirror. "So this is who you really are," I said,