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Bridget’s wrapped around Ruairi, holding onto him like she can keep him whole if she holds him tight enough.Her voice is soft but insistent."You need to go to the hospital."

Ruairi shakes his head, slow and deliberate."No."

"You can barely stand," she presses, her voice breaking."Ruairi, please.They need to do scans.Check you for internal bleeding?—"

"No hospitals," he says again, forcing the words past cracked lips."Too many questions."

Bridget’s frustration flashes across her face."I don’t care about questions.I care about you staying alive."

Before Ruairi can snap back, Eamon steps in.

"I’ll call my physician," he says calmly.

Bridget turns toward him, uncertain."Is he arealdoctor?"

"He’s treated me for years," Eamon says, his voice steady with conviction."I trust him with my life."

Without waiting for confirmation, he calls the doctor.His voice is low, clipped, giving him only the bare essentials.He ends the call, sliding the phone back into his pocket.“He’ll meet us at my penthouse.”

Bridget looks back at Ruairi, searching his face for any sign of agreement.

Ruairi gives a single nod."We’ll go."

Bridget doesn’t like it, but she doesn’t argue.She hooks her arm under Ruairi’s, helping Seamus guide him toward the exit.

Eamon turns to me, his hand coming to rest on my lower back."Come on," he says gently."Let’s go home."

Seamus drives, his hands white-knuckled on the wheel, his reflection in the rearview mirror hollowed by guilt and dread he doesn’t bother trying to hide.

Bridget keeps her arms around Ruairi.He’s slumped against her, racked with violent coughs, every breath a ragged wheeze.Tears streak her face as she pleads with him again, her voice shaking."Please, Ruairi.Let us take you to the hospital."

"No hospitals," he rasps, his voice barely above a breath."No questions."

Bridget’s face twists in frustration."You need real medical care, Ri?—"

"I said—" His voice shatters mid-sentence, breaking into a fit of coughing that wracks his entire body.When he forces his head up again, his glare is fierce, stubborn, daring anyone to argue.

She exhales loudly but doesn’t push anymore.Instead, she presses her forehead against his temple, her eyes squeezed shut as if trying to hold back tears.

The air inside the vehicle is thick, weighted with everything that’s happened.

I can still feel it.The blood drying on my skin.The gunshot ringing in my ears.The weight of Ronan’s body collapsing onto me.My fingers twitch, itching to scrub it all away.

Eamon shifts beside me.He hasn’t let go of me since we got into the car.His hand is firm on my thigh, grounding me.But I still feel like I’m unraveling.

Staring out the window, I watch as we leave the castle behind.

We don’t speak.What the hell is there to say?

Seamus pulls into the hotel's underground garage.The second the vehicle stops, Eamon’s already moving.

"Come on," he murmurs, his voice meant only for me."Let’s get you upstairs."

The elevator doors slide open.Two of Eamon’s guards are already waiting.They move without needing orders and step forward to help relieve Seamus of Ruairi’s weight.

The elevator shudders as it begins to rise, every second stretched thin under the weight of what we've just survived.Ruairi’s breathing is ragged, each shallow gasp cutting through the suffocating silence.Bridget doesn’t let go of him.Seamus keeps a steady hand on his shoulder, holding him upright.

The floors tick by too slow, too loud.When we finally reach the penthouse, the doors slide open, and I’m hit with the heavy scent of antiseptic.Dr.Kearney stands just inside the doorway, his sleeves already rolled up, a small medical kit open beside him, his expression focused.He’s ready for whatever damage Ruairi’s broken body will reveal.