The name on the tag read Angela Monroe, a woman probably twice my age, but no one stopped me at the emergency entrance. Hospitals never suspect the ones who look too tired to cause trouble.

I kept my head down as I moved through the hallways. My boots squeaked too loud but my nerves were louder.

The third floor was blocked off. Guards in casual clothes stood near the elevators. Mateo’s men, no doubt. I spotted two near the vending machines, one pretending to read a newspaper, the other pacing like he was waiting for a cue.

I took the back stairs, walking fast as I did but trying my best not to attract attention. When I reached the fourth floor, I found a maintenance cart tucked by the stairwell. Inside it was a tray of surgical supplies, a mop, a clipboard, and gloves. I snatched the gloves and grabbed the clipboard.

Confidence. That’s what Marco drilled into me. Do not walk like you are hiding. Walk like you belong.

I moved through the hall, pretending to jot something on the clipboard.

I passed a nurse, nodded once, and kept walking.

Room 408.

Alex’s name was not on the door. It was just a number. I stood in front of it for a full minute, heart hammering.

Then I opened it quietly and slipped in.

The room was dim. Machines beeped steadily, tracking the slow rhythm of his heart. He was asleep.

I took a shaky breath and stepped closer.

And then he opened his eyes.

"Are you real?"

His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, but it cracked something wide open in my chest.

I froze by the side of his hospital bed, fingers clutching the edge of the thin white sheet. Alex looked like a ghost of himself. Bandages across his ribs. A faint tube in his nose. The kind of cuts that came from something explosive, not accidental. His face was pale, his eyes unfocused, but still searching for me like I might disappear if he blinked.

"It’s me," I whispered, stepping closer. "It’s really me."

He tried to sit up, winced, and let out a painful breath. I reached out to steady him, but stopped short of touching him. I was not sure I had the right anymore.

"Millie," he said again, like the name alone was keeping him awake. "I thought they got to you. I thought I lost you forever."

"I'm sorry I betrayed you. I'm sorry I left," I said, unable to look at him straight. "I thought you would never forgive me."

He exhaled slowly, as if that truth winded him more than his injuries. His hand reached for mine, trembling, unsure, but I let him take it. Just for a second.

"Why wouldn't I forgive you, Millie"

"You don’t know what Mateo and Dan are doing behind the scenes. It’s worse than we thought," he said. "They are moving in silence now. Trying to corner my people. Trying to corner me."

"But why?" I asked.

"It's not in my place to say but all you need to know is that they are dangerous"

His grip tightened. "Listen to me. If they find you, they will break you apart from the inside out. And I will not be able to protect you."

I stepped closer to the bed and leaned in. His scent was different now. It smelled of less fire and more of hospital soap and blood. But the core of him, the part that always felt like home was still there.

"You are not the only one who knows how to fight now," I said, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.

He looked at me like he wanted to believe that but the subtle fear was still in his eyes

"Millie—"

Before he could finish, I leaned down and kissed him. It was quick and gentle kiss.

He needed assurance and I needed him to stay quiet in that moment. So that was the perfect move to make.

He kissed me back slowly. His fingers brushed my cheek with a reverence I did not deserve.

Then came the sound of heavy footsteps.

"What are you doing? You're supposed to be inside, you fools"

Mateo.

Alex’s eyes went wide.

Adrenaline crashed into my veins. I looked toward the window, then at the machines beside him.

"You can’t move," I whispered.

"You have to go. Now."

"I can't promise you I'll be back"

"It doesn't matter. Worry about yourself," he rasped. "They will kill you if they find you here."

I stood there, heart thudding like a war drum. Alex sat up just enough to reach for the IV line in his arm. With a sharp grunt, he yanked it out.

"Alex—"

He threw the sheet off and pointed toward the narrow window. "There’s a ladder outside. Emergency access. Use it."

I hesitated. Every cell in my body wanted to stay.

He touched my face, eyes fierce. "You want to help me? Then you have to live long enough to do that."

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

I didn't know how to respond.

Tears blurred my vision. I nodded once.

"And you," I whispered, "don’t you dare die on me, Alex."

He gave a small smile through his pain. "Not a chance."

I climbed onto the windowsill. The cold air blew on my face. The fire escape ladder groaned under my weight as I began to descend.

Behind me, the door burst open.

I heard the sound of heavy boots entering the room above.

But I kept climbing, refusing to look back.

By the time I hit the alley, my breath was ragged, my chest burning. I melted into the shadows, into the side streets, disappearing one corner at a time.

I kept going. Until I was sure I was alone. Until I was sure no one had followed.

Then my burner phone vibrated in my pocket.

I yanked it out, answered without looking.

"Marco?" I breathed.

"Where the hell are you?" His voice was low, sharp. "Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?"

"I saw him. He’s alive."

"Millie," he said slowly, "listen to me. You need to disappear right now. Nico is furious. He knows what you did."

I turned and leaned against a brick wall, trying to keep my balance. My heart was still racing, but not from fear anymore. From something worse.

"Listen to me Millie, you need to get out of there fast! Mateo knows you're there. Run like hell."

The call ended.

I adjusted my face cap to hide my face and was about to move into the dark streets when I smelt a familiar scent of cigarette.

A figure was standing in my way.