Because there’s nothing to say.
Because there was never another option.
Footsteps approach outside the door.
I hear them before I see her.
Christina appears in the doorway.
She stops when she sees my eyes open.
For a moment, neither of us moves.
Her hair is pulled back loosely, strands escaping around her face like she hasn’t been aware of them. She’s wearing the same clothes from last night. Her eyes look different. Not weaker. Just more aware of things she shouldn’t have had to see.
“Hi,” she says softly.
My chest tightens.
“Hi.”
She walks toward the bed slowly, like she’s afraid sudden movement might undo something fragile.
Emma appears behind her, hovering in the doorway.
Christina reaches the bed and stops. She doesn’t touch me immediately. She looks at my face first.
Her fingers lift slowly and brush against my hand, careful of the IV line.
Her touch is warm.
Real.
“You scared me,” she says.
“I’m sorry.”
Her head shakes immediately. “No.” She tightens her grip slightly. “You don’t apologise for that.”
I study her face.
Looking for damage.
Looking for anything that suggests they reached her.
“You’re okay?”
She nods.
“I’m okay.”
Relief settles into something solid inside me.
Behind her, Emma steps forward.
“You look awful,” Emma says bluntly.
Christina exhales a small laugh.