George left the hospital long after the chaos had settled after the sharp scent of antiseptic stopped clawing at his lungs, after Rosy had been wheeled into a private room and the doctors had looked him straight in the eyes and said the words he had been praying for.

She’s stable.

The word followed him like a shadow as he walked out of the hospital.

Eliana in the station wasn’t victorious. It wasn’t peace. But it was survival and right now, that was everything he and Thalia needed, like the peace they both needed.

He drove himself home.

The city lights blurred past him as his thoughts spiraled, colliding and...