ANGELICA POV
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and stale coffee, it made my stomach churn. So when Dr. House finally said the words—“You’re free to go, as long as you promise to attend therapy”—it felt like someone had finally opened a window in a smoke-filled room.
I nodded, avoiding Killian’s eyes when he squeezed my hand gently in response. Therapy. I wasn’t even sure I believed in it. How could words fix what had been broken with blood, fire, and darkness? But I wasn’t about to argue. Not after the way Killian looked at me, as if I was made of something precious. Fragile, yes—but worth protecting.
“Ready?” he asked softly, helping me to my feet.
No. I wasn’t. Not really.
But I nodded anyway.
The walk out of the hospital was surreal. My legs felt unsteady, not from weakness, bu
