The scent of antiseptic stung her nose. The soft beep of the heart monitor echoed through the hospital room. Olivia sat on a plastic chair beside Hunter’s bed, her hand never letting go of his—despite the lack of response from the still, weakened body lying before her.

Hunter’s face was pale, bruises still marked his temples. His breathing was steady, but his body had yet to recover from the brutal battle that nearly took his life. Olivia had barely left his side since they brought him to the ICU.

Three days. Three nights. Olivia remained there. Her eyes were swollen from lack of sleep, but she didn’t care.

That morning,...