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“I’m here,” she murmurs.

“You stay with me.”

She tries to answer, but her body slackens against my arm before the words leave her mouth.

I check her pulse as I look toward the crowd gathering around us.

“Call an ambulance,” I say, keeping my tone even. “Now.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Emma

JULY 6TH

The blood pressure cuff squeezes my arm hard enough to wake me, and the ceiling above me swims into focus, bringing yesterday crashing back all at once.

I remember standing at the charity gala feeling a little weird, the room tipping beneath my feet, and Bane catching me before everything disappeared.

I glance toward the chair beside the bed, still empty after the nurses finally forced him home last night, and rub the sleep from my eyes.

“Good morning,” the nurse says, releasing the cuff. “How are you feeling?”

“Embarrassed.”

She smiles. “Physically?”

“Tired.”

“That’s a better answer.” She reaches for a tray of supplies. “Dr. Patel ordered one more blood draw before she comes in.”

I hold out my arm with a sigh. “You’re all determined to make sure I don’t leave here with any blood left.”

“You’ve got plenty to spare,” she says as she ties the tourniquet.

“Easy for you to say.”

She laughs, sliding the needle into place, and I watch another vial fill, convinced the tests are only confirming what I’ve already figured out.

Between Wolf Shield, Spencer’s public campaign to drag my name through every headline in Manhattan, and too many skipped meals, I pushed myself too hard until my body finally protested.

Burnout makes sense. Rest, decent food, and fewer sixteen-hour workdays sounds like a treatment plan I can live with.

She removes the needle, tapes a cotton pad over the inside of my elbow, and tells me breakfast is on its way just as someone wheels a tray into the room. The smell of eggs reaches me before the tray does, and nausea rolls through my stomach hard enough that I cover my mouth.

The nurse turns back immediately. “Has that been happening often?”

I nod, waiting for the feeling to pass. “A few weeks.”

Her gaze shifts to the untouched tray before she lifts it again. “We’ll try food later.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Once she’s gone, I reach for my phone.

Lena claims the office has become completely unproductive without me. Kira says she’ll steal a pair of scrubs if that’s what it takes to get upstairs.

His messages sit at the top.