Page 99 of Fallen Empire

She wasn’t faking it. I was watching her shift right in front of me, slipping into the mask she wore for everyone else. Like survival depended on no one seeing her break.

Because that’s what she was used to. What her mind had trained her body to do—fight through the wreckage.

When this was over, and we were away from everyone, I’d have to remind her she was safe to break with me. She could be herself. No masks. No armor.

“Let me try,” she said, just as Ben pushed the walker in front of her.

She gripped both sides, knuckles white, and pulled it close as she slid to the edge of the bed, bracing herself.

“Go slow. We’ll be right here if you need us,” Ruth encouraged, her voice firm but gentle.

I stayed close, shifting fully onto the bed behind her now. Not touching her, but close enough to catch her if she faltered. I wanted to be her strength in any way she'd let me. Even if it was just being near.

Savannah took a breath. Then another. Her hands shook first, then the tremor moved down her arms and into her legs.

“Shift your weight forward,” Ruth said softly. “Let your legs catch you.”

Millie stood on her other side, completely still. The sass was gone. Even the fire. What was left was something steadier. Quieter. Pure devotion.

Savannah leaned forward. Just a little. Her legs adjusted beneath her, trembling with the effort. Every inch she moved looked like it hurt.

Her jaw clenched. Her shoulders tensed. Then her knees buckled.

Millie instinctively reached out, but Savannah stopped her with a whisper.

“Don’t. Don’t help me.” Her voice was quiet, but firm. Ruth gave her a nod of respect. I stayed frozen, unmoving, unless she asked me to. She shifted again, hands gripping tight, steadying herself.

And then—she stood.

Not perfectly. Not without shaking. But she was on her feet.

For the first time since I held her body in the middle of that hell on earth, she was upright.

The room held its breath. So did I.

She was pale, sweating, barely keeping it together, but she was standing. And I’d never seen anything more powerful.

Nurse Ruth gave her a once-over, hands still hovering close but never touching. “You think you can take a step forward, sweetheart?”

Instead of answering, Savannah turned her head slowly, like even that motion demanded effort.

Her eyes found Millie, who was beaming from ear to ear, radiating the kind of pride that only comes from watching someone you love do the impossible.

And that’s exactly what was happening.

Someone we thought we’d never breathe air with again was not only breathing, but standing.

And she was about to take a step.

Savannah’s lips twitched. Just slightly. And for a second, I forgot we were in a hospital. Forgot the weight of everything we’d been through.

Because right there, in that split-second, she didn’t look like someone recovering. She looked like someone who’d already made up her mind. Someone who’d heard Alex’s name and realized the only way to protect the people she loved was to rise—no matter how much it hurt.

She gave a small nod, barely more than a breath, then shifted her weight forward.

Her right foot moved first. Tentative. Shaky. But it moved.

“Atta girl,” Ruth said softly, barely above a whisper.