Page 14 of Fallen Empire

Useless. That’s what it was.

And I’ve never been useless. Not once in my life. I was the one who fixed things. Who pulled people out of impossible situations and carried them to safety.

But I couldn’t save her.

And it broke me.

Now, standing here with the smell of antiseptic in my nose and machines buzzing quietly all around me, I finally understood something I’d never wanted to accept.

Love—real love—doesn’t always rescue you.

Sometimes, it just sits beside you in the wreckage and refuses to leave.

And this time, I refused to leave. Mentally or physically.

I stepped into the room, letting the door shut behind me with a soft click. My gaze immediately landed on her.

Savannah.

She looked more alive than she had in days. A little more color in her cheeks. Less sunken in the face. Her breathing wasn’t as labored, and even though the ventilator still did the heavy lifting, something about her presence felt different.

She was in there. I could feel it. Fighting. And I’d be damned if I let her do it alone.

I stepped closer, stopping just at the edge of her bed. Millie stood on the other side, her hand still wrapped around Savannah’s.

“What did the doctor say?” I asked, my voice low, like I didn’t want to disturb the fragile peace in the room.

Millie looked up at me. Her eyes were tired, but clear.

“They ordered a CT scan,” she said quietly. “To check for brain swelling, bleeding—just to make sure everything’s looking stable.”

I nodded once, swallowing the knot that rose up in my throat.

She kept going, her voice steady even though her fingers trembled where they held Savannah’s.

“Her vitals are strong. Oxygen’s holding, blood pressure’s up a little, but nothing dangerous. If the scan looks good,they’re going to try to start weaning her off the ventilator this afternoon.”

My gaze flicked to the machine beside the bed, watching it push steady breaths into Savannah’s lungs. The rise and fall of her chest didn’t feel as mechanical anymore. There was something real behind it. Something alive.

“She really woke up?” I asked.

Millie nodded. “Only for a few seconds. Her eyes opened. She tried to talk.”

I blinked hard, heart stuttering.

“She looked right at me,” Millie added. “I know she’s still in there.”

A beat of silence passed.

“She’s fighting,” I said.

Millie nodded. “She always has been.”

I moved around the bed slowly and lowered myself into the chair beside her. For a long moment, I didn’t speak. I just looked at her.

Her skin wasn’t as pale. The bruising had started to fade. There was a warmth to her now that hadn’t been there yesterday, or the day before.

I didn’t imagine it.