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Noah didn’t answer.Lucky?She wouldn’t have been here, unconscious and broken, if it weren’t for him. A flare of guilt burned through him, sharper than the ache in his ribs, but he pushed it down, burying it.

He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees as he watched Ruth’s still face. He could see a faint smear of ash beneath her nose, a bruise beginning to darken along her temple. He remembered the way she’d laughed at dinner, her eyes bright, teasing him without hesitation. That version of her felt a lifetime away from this fragile, still one lying in front of him.

The ambulance slowed as they neared the hospital, the sirens blaring louder in the confined space. The male paramedic glanced back at Noah. “We’re pulling in now. Trauma team will meet us at the bay. You coming in with us?”

Noah’s gaze snapped up. “Try to stop me.”

The ambulance screeched to a halt, the back doors flying open as a team of doctors and nurses waited with their own stretcher, their movements brisk and deliberate.

“We’ve got a female, late twenties,” the male paramedic said as they unloaded Ruth, his voice loud and direct as he rattled off details. “Blast exposure, probable skull fracture, possible bleed. Pulse slowing, BP rising, pupils equal but sluggish. Watch for internal injuries. Casted right forearm.”

Noah climbed out after them, ignoring the sharp protest from his ribs. He followed closely, his presence a silent, immovable force as Ruth was wheeled into the trauma center. The bright lights of the ER cut through the night, harsh and glaring, but Noah barely registered it.

“Sir, you need to step back,” one of the nurses said firmly as the trauma team clustered around Ruth, assessing her condition.

Noah planted his feet. “I’m not leaving.”

“Sir—”

“Noah!”

A familiar voice cut through the noise, sharp and steady. Noah turned to see Alex striding toward him, his face tight with both concern and urgency. Beside him, Brad Killian, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a no-nonsense demeanor, walked in step. Charlotte and Isobel followed.

“Where is she?” Alex asked, scanning the room until his eyes landed on Ruth’s stretcher.

Noah’s voice was low but steady as he pointed toward her. “We just got here now. She hasn’t woken up yet.”

Alex cursed softly under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair as he turned to Brad. “Find out what the hell happened and who did this.”

Brad nodded, already pulling out his phone. “I’ll start making calls.”

Alex turned back to Noah, his gaze narrowing as he took in the soot on his face, the way he cradled his chest. “You look like hell.”

“I’m fine,” Noah said automatically. His voice had that same dangerous edge, the one that advised no argument. “She’s the only one who matters right now.”

Alex stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “Alright. But you’re not doing this alone. We’re going to find out who did this, Noah. You have my word.”

Noah didn’t respond, his focus drifting back to Ruth as the trauma team wheeled her through the double doors. Charlotte and Isobel moved to the sides of her stretcher. The last thing he saw was her face, pale but peaceful, as they disappeared from view. And then the waiting began.

Twenty-Two

The trauma bay doors banged open violently with a loud crash as Ruth’s stretcher was rushed inside. The antiseptic smell hit her first, sharp and stinging, filling her nostrils like a punch. Underneath it, the metallic tang of blood hovered, faint but unmistakable.

The air was cool, sterile, each breath tasting faintly of chemicals. She tried to lift her hand to her head, instinctively reaching for the ache pounding relentlessly beneath her skull, but her arm felt heavy, distant, as if it belonged to someone else.

Voices surged around her, sharp and urgent.

"BP’s climbing—180 over 110!"

"Bradycardic! Heart rate’s dropping—she’s at 48!"

"We need to intubate if this keeps up!"

Ruth’s head throbbed with each word, the voices slicing through her fractured thoughts like jagged glass. The rhythm of the monitor by her side slowed, each beep further apart than the last, a sound she vaguely recognized but couldn’t fully process. Her chest felt tight, like someone had placed a weight on it, and her breathing came in shallow gasps.

"What’s… happening?" her voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

"Ruth? Can you hear me?" a voice cut through the din, steady, commanding. A man’s voice, deep and calm, but with an edge of urgency. "You’re in the ER. You’ve had a head injury. We’re working to stabilize you."