[Machine beep. Beep. Beep.]

“She’s awake!”

Footsteps rushed in, echoing sharply against the sterile white walls of the hospital room.

“Her heartbeat… it’s too fast,” the doctor muttered, leaning over the frail figure lying on the bed.

The nurse beside him glanced at the monitors, her voice shaking.

“Doctor, her body temperature is below twenty degrees.

They both froze, staring at each other. It was impossible. No human should survive with such cold.

Finally, the nurse whispered,

“Doctor… she’s alive. But how is this possible?”

The doctor shook his head, disbelief heavy in his eyes.

“Get her father here. Now.”

The voices began to fade, turning into a blur of echoes. Snow barely heard them. Her mind drifted elsewhere.

When she had closed her eyes, she expected to wake up at school, surrounded by the noisy chatter of the competition.

Instead, she was here, in a white room filled with strange machines.

Where am I?

Her gaze shifted across the ceiling, then down to the blinking lights beside her bed. Her chest tightened. Please don’t let me be back with those four creatures.

“Are you okay?”

The doctor’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Snow blinked. Yes, I’m fine. Obviously.

He gave a faint smile, the kind doctors offered to reassure frightened patients.

“Don’t worry. You’re safe here.”

Safe? The word cut sharply in her mind.

He couldn’t hear her. His lips moved, but her voice was locked inside her thoughts.

Then why had those creatures heard her? Why could they answer her?

Her stomach twisted. She hated this. The doctor leaned closer, perhaps to check her pulse.

But the instant his hand hovered near, his face tightened. A sharp chill shot up his arm, creeping under his skin like frostbite. He quickly recoiled, his eyes wide.

“What is this?” he whispered.

Snow didn’t give him time to figure it out. She tugged the oxygen tube from her nose, ripped away the wires, and sat up with sudden strength.

Her legs trembled as she swung them off the bed. “Where are you going?” the doctor exclaimed, rushing forward.

I have a competition to be at. I will not lose to them.

“You can’t leave just yet,” the doctor protested.

“Your father will be here soon.”

Snow’s frustration burned.

Can’t you hear me? I said I need to leave. Oh right, you can’t.

She pushed harder against the tangle of wires, determined to break free.

Then, she froze.

She felt it. A presence moving closer.

Father.

The realization struck her like lightning. Even from six floors below, she sensed him. Every step, every heartbeat.

His presence pressed into her chest as if the walls themselves carried him to her. Father is here… Her body shivered.

Wait.

How do I know that?

Her struggle stilled. Her senses sharpened, stretching beyond the room. She turned to the door, waiting.

It opened.

Ignacio Deharius.

Her adoptive father. The man who carried empires in his shadow. His tailored coat reeked faintly of smoke and leather, his sharp features carved even deeper by age and burden. His presence filled the room like a storm cloud.

“This had better be good, Doctor,” he said coldly.

“I skipped my meeting for this.”

Snow’s chest tightened. His voice, distant, detached sliced into her more deeply than any wound.

The doctor stood straighter, nervous.

“She’s awake.”

Ignacio’s gaze slid across her face. He didn’t soften.

“I can see that.”

He raised a hand slightly, a cigarette caught between his fingers, then let it fall.

His eyes lingered on her as if she were little more than a weight chained to him.

Father…

Her thought reached for him desperately. But Ignacio’s mind was elsewhere.

“Now I have to take care of this baggage myself,”

he muttered under his breath.

Snow froze. Baggage. The word hollowed her out. Her lips parted, but no sound came.

She wanted to scream at him, shake him, demand why he hated her so deeply. Instead, only her silent plea whispered again.

Father…

Ignacio stepped closer, his hand reaching toward her.

“I wouldn’t advise that,” the doctor cut in quickly, blocking him with his arm.

“Her body is… unusual.” He hesitated.

“Aside from the unexplainable chill and the rapid heartbeat, she’s stable.

But physical contact could be dangerous.” Ignacio frowned, lowering his hand with irritation.

“So what exactly are you saying?” Ignacio asked.

“I’m saying she can be taken home. Medically, there’s no reason to keep her here. But I advise caution.” Ignacio exhaled sharply, smoke curling in the air.

“Fine. Thank you, Doctor.” Snow rose slowly, her legs unsteady but strong enough. She followed her father to the door, her mind thick with questions she dared not ask.

“Snow,”

the doctor’s voice called softly. She stopped.

Her pale hair brushed across her cheek as she turned.

“I am truly sorry about the scholarship into the Night Owls,”

he said, his tone heavy with pity.

Snow blinked, her breath faltering.

What?