*Late Morning*

Damian's POV

Damian stood in his office. His fingers tapped a silent rhythm against his desk as Leo's voice crackled through the speakerphone.

“She won’t know,” Leo reassured him. “Everything’s been routed through a private channel. No paperwork will bear your name.”

“Good,” Damian replied curtly, though a knot tightened in his chest.

Elena hadn’t asked for help. Not directly, not even when he’d brought up the possibility of treatment upgrades.

She had remained quiet, too proud or too tired to admit she needed anyone to carry part of her burden.

But he saw the signs.

The days where her skin lost color, where her walk was slower,...