ANASTASHA.
Ughhhh… what is that sound.
It wasn't exactly clear, there were layers of it—annoying layers of it. There was a low hum, like electricity running through the walls. Then a distant drip. I hear voices but they are muffled along with footsteps.
The next thing that comes to me is light. It is not bright. It is diffused— almost translucent, like it has been filtered through something thin. Curtains maybe? The king e use in the house infirmary to prevent light from coming in.
I try to move but nothing happens.
That's… not right.
Panic flares up through my body. It is very sharp and distant but mey body does not react. There is no response. My limbs feel very heavy almost as it they belong to someone else.
I blink.
Lights bleed into my eyelid. Clearer, brighter; too bright and too white. I squeeze them on reflex and immediately regret it—pain pulses through my head, slow and deep. I try to move again—fingers, toes, anything. Still nothing.
"Hey" a voice says, close. Careful. "Easy."
Kelvin.
His voice is calm, too calm, measured. The type of voice he uses when something has gone wrong and he does not want it to get worse.
"your home' he says "you're are safe."
Home.
That does not make sense.
I force my eyes open.
At first everything is wrong. The ceiling is swimming, the light fractures into soft halos. I squeeze my eyes shut again, breath and then try once more.
This time, shape begins to settle.
I was in the infirmary.
Why am I—
"Anastasha," kelvin says gently. "Can you hear me?"
"Yes," I croak. My throat feels dry, raw, like I have been screaming. "Why… am I here?"
His face swims into view above me, resolving slowly. He looks tired. More tired than usual. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is pulled back haphazardly, not the neat way he usually keeps it.
"You have been unconscious ," he says. "For a while."
I frown.
His words don't sit write with me.
"Why?"
He doesn't answer immediately. Instead, his hands move—efficient, practiced. Fingers at my wrist. My neck. He checks my pulse, my breathing, presses lightly at my collar bone, watching my face for a reaction.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"checking you" He replies. "stay with me"
Something in the way he says it—stay with me— tightens something in my chest.
"I'm Fine," I say automatically
He huffs softly. "You are not."
That irritates me.
I try to sit up.
The pain hits me all at once.
It starts deep, low, a burning pressure in the left side of my abdomen that steals the air from my lungs before I can react. It spreads outwards in sharp lines, radiating up my torso, down my hip. My vision whites out at the edges.
I gasp, a sound torn out of me, and collapsing back into the mattress.
"Oh" I whisper. "Oh"
Kelvin's hand is there instantly. he holds me firmly but gently on my shoulder. "Easy. Don't move"
"What—" I suck in another breath, the pain is radiating outward now, blooming hot and insistent. "What is that?"
"That" he says quietly," is your body reminding you that you have been shot"
Shot.
That word cracks something open.
"I don't- 'My breath stutters. "I don't heal this slow"
"I know" He says quietly.
The memory does not come back all at once. It floods in fragments. The glass exploding inward, Liliana's scream, the sound of gunfire— too close, too loud. The impact. The warmth of blood spreading steadily across my side. Falling.
"Liliana" I choke.
The room tilts. And me. Heart lurches violently.
I push against the bed again, harder this time, ignoring kelvin's warnings. Pain flares up in my shoulders this time, it is sharp and angry and I cry out as my vision tunnels.
"No" where. "No- where—"
"Anastasha," Kelvin says firmly, raising his voice just enough to cut through the rising panic. "Look at me."
I can't. I can barely breath.
The room feels too small. The air feels wrong. My chest tightens, breaths come in to fast and shallow. My hands curl into the sheets as my fingers shake uncontrollably.
"She—" my voice cracks. "Where is Liliana?"
Kelvin does not answer immediately.
The silence was worse than anything he could have possibly said.
The panic surges into full force now. It is violent and overwhelming. My pulse ponds in my ears. My limbs tremble as if I am about to tear myself apart just to move.
"she was there" I said, my words tumbling out fractured and desperate. "They took her—Kelvin they took her, I couldn't- I tried— "
"I know" He says Quickly. "I know. Anastasha, breath with me."
I shake my head. The tears are just spilling freely now." I failed. I failed. I should have—"
"Breath" He repeats. This time, firmer. "In. Now."
I gasp in despite myself.
"Out"
Again.
It takes time. Too much time… and my body try to fight me every step of the way. Eventually- slowly- the tightness in my chest eases. My breath evens out. The shaking subsides to dull tremor.
When I finally open my eyes again, kelvin is still there. He has not moved.
"you are safe." His voice soft. 'you are home"
My throat aches. 'she isn't"
"No" He agrees. "She isn't"
The honesty studies me more than any false reassurance would have.
I lie there, exhausted, the pain is pulsing dully now that the adrenaline has faded. My abdomen throbs with every heartbeat. My shoulder burns when I shift even slightly.
"Why am I not healing?" I whisper.
Kelvin's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.
"That's... part of what we need to talk about," he says. 'The drugs they used interfered with your regenerative response. It slowed everything down. You are healing just not at the rate at which you should be healing.
I stare at the ceiling." That has never happened before"
"I know."
"How long?" I ask.
He hesitates.
"How long was I out"
"… three days"
Three days.
Liliana has been gone for three days.
"How did you find me?"
He exhales slowly almost as if he has been holding that answer in for days.
"I traced your signal after the crash. The phone never disconnected. I followed the last transmission then I coordinated any emergency retrieval and cleared the area before authorities could interfere. By the time I came you had lost a lot of blood. I stabilized you as best as I could."
"and Liliana?"
His gaze hardens. "I lost them"
The words land heavy and final.
I whisper. "No. No She's—she'll be fine. She always—"
My Voice breaks again.
Liliana should be here. She should be making jokes about the the infirmary food, mocking the medical equipment, complaining about boredom. The roo feels wrong without he_ too qiet, too still.
Kelvin watches me carefully. "Gabriel Knows"
Of course, he does. A new wave of dread hits me. As if he did not have enough reasons not to trust me.
"He is going to hate me"
"No" Kelvins says immediately. "he is going to be angry. But not at you"
"He was against the idea of us going from the beginning" I say Hollowly. "Warned us. He said—"
"He said to be careful," Kelvin corrects. "Not to hide forever"
I shake my head weakly. "You know how he gets about attachment. About exposure. We broke every single rule. We were anything but careful. We will be lucky if he even lets us out to the compound after this."
Kelvin exhales slowly. "Gabriel is on his way right ow. He is securing equipment and information. He will be back soon, and when he is, we will talk. All of us."
I should be out the looking for her. I insist weakly.
"You can barely sit up" he replies. "What good are you in this state?"
I close my eyes.
We were supposed to look after each other. Gabriel was right— hell, Gabriel is always right. We should have never gone for that stupid concert. It was stupid of us to think we could have a day of normalcy without consequences.
No attachments, no exposure.
Stay hidden, Stay alive.
Instead we let ourselves believe we could have one night. One concert. One moment of noise and light.
And now she is gone.
"this is not your fault" kelvin rest his hands briefly over mine as he speaks.
I don't answer.
Because even if he believes it—
I don't.
And amount of reassurance can quiet the quilt clawing at my chest, whispering that I should have been stronger, faster, better.
That if I did something differently that day, she would still be here.