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"Thank the gods," she breathes. "I mean, not that it would matter, we'd support you either way, but Dylan..." She shakes her head. "Everyone sees how he treats you. The controlling behavior, the jealousy. Gwen was just saying the other day how worried she's been."

Everyone sees.

The words echo in my head.

If everyone sees, why didn't anyone say anything sooner?

Why did it take Regnor literally moving into my life for people to acknowledge what was happening?

"Do your parents know?" Vail asks, pulling me from my spiral. "About the pregnancy?"

"Not yet." I close the supply cabinet harder than necessary. "I want to tell them in person. When I'm ready."

"Your dad's going to flip his shit," she says matter-of-factly. "You know he made it clear to all the guys—hands off his daughter."

"I know." The weight of that future conversation sits heavy in my chest. "But it's my life. My choice."

"Damn right it is." She bumps my shoulder companionably. "For what it's worth, Regnor's a good man. Rough around the edges, sure, but he'll take care of you. Both of you."

If only she knew the truth.

That Regnor's claiming another man's baby out of some misguided sense of protection.

That every night I wake up in cold sweats, terrified Dylan will find out.

That—

The alarm cuts through my thoughts.

"Unit 19, respond to 1847 Maple Street. Sixty-eight-year-old male, chest pains, difficulty breathing."

We move on autopilot, muscle memory taking over.

I'm behind the wheel before the bay doors fully open, Vail calling in our response as I navigate the morning traffic.

The familiar rush of adrenaline pushes everything else away.

This is what I'm good at.

This is where I matter.

"Two minutes out," I announce, taking the corner faster than strictly necessary.

The house is a modest ranch in an older neighborhood.

A woman stands in the doorway, waving frantically.

We grab our gear and rush inside.

The patient is on the living room floor, gray-faced and clutching his chest.

Classic presentation.

"Sir, I'm Everly, this is Vail. We're here to help." I kneel beside him, already reaching for my stethoscope. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Harold," he gasps. "Can't... breathe..."

"Okay, Harold. We're going to take care of you." I meet Vail's eyes. "Let's get him on oxygen and start a line."