ALEXANDER
I had already made the decision before my fingers reached for the box.
There was no clean way around it.
I opened the small box and carefully removed the syringe.
The liquid inside was clear.
I kept my movements unhurried.
Roman noticed immediately.
His posture changed—just slightly. His shoulders stiffened. His eyes dropped to the syringe, then returned to my face.
“What is that?” he asked.
He already knew it was for him. That much was obvious. There was a flicker of worry in his expression, restrained but present. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t protest. But he was alert now in a different way.
“It’s a vaccine,” I said evenly. That was the only thing that came to mind.
The word was simple.
He hesitated. “What vaccine?”
His voice was careful, but there was something
