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Noah stood tense beside him, his heart hammering.

A few minutes later, Paul pried the cast apart. Noah inhaled sharply. Inside, embedded against her skin, was a tiny plastic barrel.

He cursed, “Son of a—” He ripped it free, his jaw clenched. “This is how she did it.” He held up the device. It was filled with tiny pellets.

Noah’s fingers curled into fists. The fake nurse had hidden it in Ruth’s cast—where no one would think to check. A slow release of anticoagulants, poisoning her little by little. He exhaled sharply. “Can you fix it?”

Paul was already moving. “I have to. I just hope she’s not already bleeding heavily in her brain. The confusion…it’s not a good sign.”

Noah’s stomach twisted as Paul pulled a syringe from the kit, filling it with a reversal agent. “This is vitamin K, the antidote for warfarin.” He carefully injected it into Ruth’s IV, then stepped back, watching. Waiting.

Noah couldn’t breathe.

Paul ran a hand over his face. “Now, we wait. And hope it’s not too late.”

The cabin was silent except for the soft crackling of the fire and the rhythmic hum of Ruth’s oxygen. Noah stood near the bed, his hands clenched into tight fists.

He hated waiting. Every instinct told him to do something. Break another code. Find another lead. Hunt down the bastard responsible for this. But none of that would help Ruth right now. He needed her to wake up. To fight.

Paul sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving Ruth. He had bandaged her arm where he removed the plastic barrel, but the bruising around the area was deep. “She’s got a long way to go.” He hung a bag of IV fluids and a unit of blood and let it run wide open. He took her blood pressure every fifteen minutes. In between, he ran the ultrasound probe over her chest and abdomen looking for bleeding.

Noah exhaled sharply. “Will she make it?”

Paul sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “If the anticoagulant was in her system for too long, the antidote won’t be able to stop the bleeding that’s already happening. If it reached her brain, we won’t know until it’s too late. And if it’s not warfarin, if it’s a newer drug without a reversal agent…”

Noah’s stomach turned. “She’ll be okay,” he muttered, more to himself than to Paul.

Paul didn’t answer. He just leaned forward, pressing his fingers against Ruth’s pulse. Checking, monitoring, waiting.

Minutes passed. Then an hour. Then another hour.

Noah didn’t move from his chair. Neither did Paul.

Then—a sound. A soft, shaky inhale.

Noah sat up straight. So did Paul.

Ruth’s fingers twitched against the blanket. “Noah?”

Noah exhaled sharply, relief hitting him like a punch. “I’m here.”

Paul let out a slow breath. “Her pulse is stronger.”

Noah ignored him, leaning closer. “Rae? Can you hear me?”

Her blind eyes fluttered open. She looked… confused. Tired. But alive. Noah gritted his teeth to keep his emotions in check.

Paul pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “Ruth?”

She blinked slowly. “Paul?”

Paul smirked. “Good. You remember me.”

Ruth let out a breath, a flicker of a tired smile on her lips. “I’m still here.” Noah squeezed her cold fingers.

Paul stood, stretching. “She needs fluids. Rest. We’ll keep monitoring her, but the fact that she’s talking is a damn good sign.”

Noah nodded, his fingers still wrapped around hers.