Mischa's POV

I sat by Patrick's bed in the hospital, the sunrise moving shafts of light over the sheets on his bed. I hadn't had a bit of sleep; my parents and I had arrived at the hospital shortly after the ambulances did, and only a short time ago had been allowed to see him. The hours of surgery had put the rest of his body back together, and the CT scan of his head showed no brain injury. He needed to rest and fight off infection. The next day would be key.

"They don't know half of the injuries he had," my father told me as he sat next...