<b>85 </b>


    Liam’s POV


    An ident. It was clear. Thin smoke still rose from the side of the road, a crowd had gathered, and several officers were directing traffic, urging drivers to wait. My fingers tapped impatiently against the steering wheel, anxiety crawling higher by the second. Every moment that passed felt like torture.


    A nce at the dashboard clock only tightened the knot in my chest. The longer I sat here, the sharper my panic grew. Dark thoughts wed their way back in despite my earlier attempts to push them away. What if my instinct was right? What if she was alone right now, helpless–and I was stuck here, useless?


    I closed my eyes for a breath, inhaled deeply, exhaled slow. But that only heightened my awareness of the chaos outside. Sirens wailed, tires screeched, scattered voices shouted from the crowd. The sound of it all pressed against my skull, feeding the unease.


    Traffic crawled forward, a few meters at a time, only to halt again. Frustration made me m the wheel softly, ignoring the annoyed look from the driver beside me who surely noticed my agitation. Time felt both too fast and painfully slow.


    My gaze drifted to the phone on the passenger seat. The urge to call her again surged–to hear her voice, to know she was still there. Yet part of me recoiled. What if this time she didn’t answer? What if silence


    on the other end confirmed every fear I had?


    Finally, the cars ahead crept forward. I stepped on the gas too hard, riding too close to the bumper in


    front as though sheer force could clear the road faster. Up ahead, a cary crumpled against the


    sidewalk, hood torn open, windshield shattered into pieces. For a split second, my body went rigid. Imagination red cruelly–what if it was her car?


    I shook my head violently, forcing the thought away. No. Not hers. It couldn’t be. Focus.


    Once I cleared the ident site, I pressed down harder on the pedal. The engine roared as the road opened before me, but the weight in my chest did not ease. If anything, it sharpened, as though the time lost back there was a warning that I was already toote.


    The closer I got to her apartment, the stronger the dread became. Her face kept shing in my mind. I pulled up outside her building and hurried in, stabbing the elevator button and pacing as the numbers ticked upward.


    When the doors slid open, I strode quickly down the hall to her door. My hand lifted to knock–silence. I knocked again, harder. Still nothing.


    My heartbeat thundered. I tried the knob. Locked. A low growl escaped me as I yanked my phone, calling the building manager.


    It didn’t take long for a staff member to arrive and unlock the door. The moment it swung open, a chill


    85


    → +15 BONUS


    seeped out. The apartment was quiet, but herptop glowed on the desk, screen filled with open. documents.


    Her name left my lips in a desperate call as I stepped inside, scanning the living room, the kitchen- empty. A bottle of water sat drained beside theptop. My stomach dropped. The dread wed deeper. I called out again as I made for the bedroom. The sight that met me stole the air from my lungs.


    Shey copsed on the floor, body curled to the side, face pale, breath ragged.


    My chest constricted. I dropped to my knees beside her, hands shaking as I touched her shoulder<b>, </b>trying to rouse her. Her eyes fluttered open just barely, unfocused, lips trembling with the effort <b>to </b>form my


    name.


    I gathered her into my arms, her weight light yet feverish and cold all at once. Carrying her out, I barely registered the startled stares in the hallway. My only thought was getting her to safety.


    Iid her carefully in the passenger seat, fastening the belt with clumsy fingers before speeding toward the nearest hospital. I kept ncing at her, each turn of her paling face cutting deeper into me.


    The drive felt endless, each second a test of my sanity. My mind wed at the thought of losing her again -no. I couldn’t.


    Atst, the hospital loomed ahead. I shouted for help the moment I burst through the doors. Medics rushed to take her from my arms, wheeling her away in a flurry of white coats and urgent voices.


    <b>I </b>tried to follow, but a nurse blocked my path, firm yet gentle. “Please wait here. We’ll update you as soon as possible.”


    I stood frozen at the threshold, chest heaving, fists clenched. My heart hammered so loud it drowned out everything else. The only thing I could do now was wait–and pray that Noah’s dream was nothing more than coincidence, and that I had note toote.


    Soon after, the doors of the emergency room opened. A doctor stepped out, his face calm, and for the first time I felt like I could breathe again, though my heart was still pounding hard.


    “Family of the patient, Sienna?” he asked, confirming. I nodded quickly.


    “How is she, Doctor<b>?</b>” My voice came out hoarse, almost breaking.


    The doctor took a brief breath before exining, “The patient is experiencing symptoms of appendicitis, but it hasn’t reached the stage where surgery is necessary. Fortunately, you brought her here quickly. We’ve already given her medication to reduce the pain and infection. For now, she just needsplete rest and plenty of fluids. However, we’ll keep her under observation for the next three <b>days </b>to ensure her condition remains stable.”


    I swallowed hard, feeling a heavy weight in my chest lift just a little. “So she’s going to be okay<b>?</b><b>” </b>I asked,


    <b>2/4 </b>


    85


    +15 <b>BONUS </b>


    still needing reassurance.


    “Yes. As long as she follows the doctor’s instructions and doesn’t push herself, she’ll recover,” he replied reassuringly.


    Thank God. I lowered my head for a moment, closed my eyes, trying <i>to </i>calm the storm that had been crashing through me all this time. The image of finding her copsed earlier was still etched sharply in my mind, a reminder of how fragile a person’s life could be.


    “In that case, we’ll transfer her to a ward. You’ll be able to see her shortly,<b>” </b>the doctor added before walking away.


    Not long after, I saw Sienna being moved to an inpatient room. I immediately requested that she be transferred to a VIP room.


    I stood there for a few seconds, taking a long breath. The next three days at least I could make sure she wouldn’t be alone. Because this time, I wouldn’t let her face that pain by herself.