NATHAN’S breathing was stronger than it had been the night before. His chest rose and fell more steadily now, a faint color returning to his cheeks where they had been ghostly pale. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic, fresh bandages, and the warm scent of the early morning drifting through the parted curtains. The soft hum of a medical monitor mixed with the quiet rustle of the two nurses as they checked the IV line, while the doctor made notes by the side table.

Oswald stood beside Nathan’s bed, arms folded, eyes dark but not cold, it was more thoughtful than they had ever been. Vincenzo leaned against the wall...