Raymond's hand lingered on the doorframe outside the private room where Sofia was recovering, his voice low but steady, the kind of steadiness that only men who've weathered loss can manage. "You should take some rest, son. You've been on your feet since the moment we landed. Even steel bends if it's pushed too hard."
Adam stood with his shoulders squared but his eyes locked on the closed door. Through the narrow glass panel, he could see Anne and Elise sitting on either side of Sofia's hospital bed. The three women were a small island of muted movement and low murmurs. "I don't want to leave her," Adam murmured, his voice hoarse, carrying a tremor he couldn't quite mask.
