HARPER
The sharp scent of antiseptic and bleach clawed at memories I'd long since buried. I pushed down the ache in my chest as we made our way down the hallway—Dominic beside me, Mila clinging to his other side.
It had been weeks since the accident. We hadn't seen Jason since I was discharged. He'd been in the ICU, fighting for his life. But now, the doctors said he was stable. Awake. Out of danger.
They said seeing family would help with recovery.
Dominic gave my hand a gentle squeeze, a silent reassurance. Mila's small fingers gripped tighter around his as we approached the room. Her face was scrunched with quiet worry, lips pressed into a thin line.
We stopped in front of the door. None of us moved at first. I could hear the steady beep of machines, and from down the hall, faint chatter from the nurses' station.
Then Dominic knocked softly and eased the door open.
