Amara's POV

The following two days blurred into a slow, heavy rhythm, a fragile kind of calm layered over exhaustion and unspoken fear.

Cassian slept most of the first day. The medic’s work had stopped the bleeding, but his body was weak, feverish. I sat by his side, cleaning his wound every few hours with the supplies I'd left behind, changing his bandages with trembling hands.

Paul came and went, always restless, always on edge. He was constantly on the phone, speaking in low tones, ...