?Chapter 1085:


    Yet in that moment of calm, my thoughts betrayed me, wandering unbidden to Jett.


    His mysterious secrets and the fierce resolve that had hardened his features when he rescued me swirled within me, stirring a conflicted brew of emotions I couldn’t quite name.


    My fingers twisted in the nket fabric, betraying my inner turmoil as I wrestled with thoughts I couldn’t silence.


    In the end, concern for his wellbeing won the battle raging within me.


    Looking up, I grasped Maia’s hand with trepidation and asked, “Mrs. Pierce, how is Jett doing now? Is he alright?”


    The question hung in the air as Maia’s expression shifted, her warm smile gradually dissolving into a pensive silence.


    After what seemed like an eternity, she replied, “Jett has been working relentlessly on the antidote, refusing even a moment’s rest. I can sense his…plicated emotions, given his identity…”


    Her words struck me like a physical blow, my heart constricting painfully as a wave of mncholy engulfed me.


    Jett’s identity—that carefully guarded secret now thrust into harsh daylight—had catapulted him into an unwanted spotlight in an instant.


    The weight of his burden must be crushing, his anxiety surely running deeper than my mind could even begin toprehend.


    A knot formed in my throat, rendering me speechless as emotions tooplex to articte stole away my voice.


    My heart felt like a tangle of nerves, twisted with longing. The only thought pulsing through me was Jett. I needed to see him—desperately.


    “I have to see him,” I said, struggling to sit upright, the exhaustion in my body resisting every motion.


    g???????ν??????.????n – ?????????? ????????????????


    Maia, quick to notice, reached out and gently pressed my shoulder back against the pillow. “Makenna, please… you’re still so weak. Just rest a little longer. Once you’ve regained some strength, there’ll be time to see him.”


    “No.” I bit down hard on my lip, summoning whatever resolve I had left. “I have to go. Jett’s drowning in this alone, and I can’t let that happen. I need to see him, talk to him, let him know he’s not alone—that someone’s still here for him.”


    She looked at me for a long, silent moment, and then sighed—soft and resigned. “Alright. You’re set on this, I can see that. But promise me, Makenna—stay calm. Don’t push yourself too hard.”


    “I promise.” I nodded, but even as the words left my lips, my heart had already flown out the door, racing ahead to where Jett was.


    The room fell quiet again—until the door creaked open.


    My gaze snapped up, and there he was.


    Jett stood in the doorway like a ghost of himself. Gaunt. Hollow-eyed. His once-sharp gaze was dulled and bloodshot. Dark circles framed his eyes, and all the creases on his face made him look exhausted. His clothes were crumpled, his hair slightly disheveled—he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.


    When our eyes met and he saw I was awake, a flicker of light broke through the fog in his gaze. But the joy was fleeting, reced quickly by something far moreplicated.


    He parted his lips to speak—then hesitated.


    .


    .


    .