Page 48 of Fallen Empire

Then—one slow, careful blink.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, covering my mouth.

Dr. Alvarez’s smile was tight but relieved. “Okay. That’s a very good sign. We’re going to take this slow. I’m going to ask you a few questions, and all you need to do is blink once for yes, twice for no. Do you understand?”

Another blink. Just one.

“She’s tracking,” he said, glancing at the nurse behind him. “Let’s document responsiveness.”

He turned back to her.

“Do you know your name?”

One blink.

“Do you know where you are?”

A pause.

Two blinks.

“That’s okay,” he said quickly, voice still steady. “You’ve been through a lot. You’re in the hospital. You were injured, but you’re safe now. You’re surrounded by people who love you.”

Her eyes moved slowly, shifting from him back to us.

To me.

She blinked again. Just one.

“I know, honey,” I whispered, pressing my fingers to her wrist like I could hold her there with just my touch. “I know.”

Dr. Alvarez stepped back slightly. “She’s responsive, but we’re going to keep her monitored for the next twenty-four hours. The pain will still be intense, but we’ll keep adjusting the meds. No talking yet, but blinking is a good start.”

“Can we stay?” Jaxson asked, his voice strained.

Dr. Alvarez didn’t hesitate. “You’re the reason she’s still here. I wouldn’t dare move you now.”

The doctor lingered for a second longer, eyes flicking between Jaxson’s hand on her arm and mine curled around her wrist.

“But let’s try to refrain from touching her,” he said gently, not unkind. “We don’t know what areas hurt, and as much as you want to ensure she knows you’re here... you’re going to have to do it without physical touch for now. At least until she starts talking.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

I pulled my hand back like I’d just touched an electric fence, guilt lancing through my chest. Jaxson’s fingers lingered a second longer, like it physically pained him to let go, before he finally drew his hand away too, slow and reluctant.

Dr. Alvarez gave us both a short nod before stepping back. “She’s a fighter,” he said simply, then turned and walked out.

The click of the door behind him was my undoing.

It was small, quiet, barely even a sound.

But it felt like the final seal breaking.

I didn’t know if it was Pandora’s box cracking open or just the weight of everything from the past week finally finding the one unguarded part of me... but I folded. Slumped into the chair beside her bed and sobbed like a child.

No strength left to pretend anymore.

Not in front of Jaxson.