(Sabrina’s POV)
The hospital waiting room is a special kind of torture.
Fluorescent lights that buzz faintly. Uncomfortable plastic chairs that squeak with every shift. The smell of antiseptic and fear permeates the air.
And Jake. God, Jake.
He hasn't let go of my sleeve since we arrived. His small hand clutches the fabric so tightly his knuckles are white.
He hasn't spoken either. Not since we got in Ethan's car. Not during the drive here. Not while we checked in with the ER nurses.
Just silence. And that terrifying, withdrawn expression on his face I've never seen before.
"Jake, baby." I try again, my voice soft. "Do you want some water? Or maybe we can find a snack machine—"
He shakes his head. Doesn't look at me. Just keeps staring at the double doors marked ICU like he can wil
