Emilie’s POV:

The hospital’s sterile smell hit me as we rushed through the back entrance, the fluorescent lights harsh against my eyes.

My dad was on a stretcher, his face was gray, his breathing was shallow as the doctor and a nurse wheeled him toward surgery.

Andrew stayed close, his bandaged arm stiff, his eyes still burning from our kiss in the van, a kiss I could still feel, hot and desperate, making my heart race with guilt and want.

Boris was outside, checking the perimeter ...