Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
My mind is clouded with uncertainty about how she’s processing everything. I don’t even know where she stands emotionally or how she’s handling the pressure. We need to have a conversation, to clear the air and address everything that’s been left unsaid.
I look at Vin, my resolve firming up. “I’m heading out,” I say, needing to make it clear that this isn’t just about the case for me. “I need to check on her, see how she’s doing, and talk things through.”
With a final, reassuring nod to Vin, I turn and head for the door, my thoughts consumed by the urgent need to bridge the gap between us and face whatever truths lie ahead.
I hurriedly make my way to Eva’s apartment, my thoughts racing with concern. As I approach her door, I notice it’s slightly ajar. My heart skips a beat. “Eva?” I call out tentatively, pushing the door open with a trembling hand.
The sight that greets me inside is horrifying. Her apartment, once so full of life, now feels like a crime scene. Eva is sprawled on the floor, her body a mess of blood and bruises. The room is dimly lit, casting eerie shadows over her battered form. The sight of her like this is almost too much to bear.
I rush to her side, my heart pounding in my chest. Dropping to my knees, I gently cradle her in my arms, trying to keep my hands steady. There’s an overwhelming panic coursing through my system. “Eva?” I whisper urgently, my voice cracking with fear. “Oh, please let her be okay. Can you hear me?”
Her eyes flutter weakly, and I let out a shaky breath of relief. She’s still conscious, though barely responsive. Her breaths are shallow, and her body trembles with each intake of air.
I try to stay calm, though every inch of me is screaming with anxiety. My hands are trembling as I check for any signs of further injury. I need to get her help, but I’m desperate to keep her awake and conscious until then. “Hang in there, Eva. Help is on the way,” I murmur, my voice a mix of desperation and determination as I reach for my phone to call for an ambulance.
“She’s pretty banged up. Busted lip. Swollen eyes. She's also got a concussion and a few broken ribs,” Doctor Cartwright says to me, his voice calm but carrying the weight of concern. “But she won’t respond to us when we ask her who was responsible. We’ve done what we can for now. Lucky for you, Father, I don’t know what would have happened had you not rescued her in time.”
I shudder at the thought, my heart heavy with guilt and fear. “Can I see her?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Doctor Cartwright nods, his expression sympathetic. “Follow me.”
We walk through the sterile, brightly lit waiting room. The buzz of conversation and the occasional beeping of medical equipment fade as we make our way down a long, dimly lit hallway. The antiseptic smell of the hospital fills my nostrils, mixing with the faint, lingering scent of Eva’s perfume, which now feels hauntingly out of place in this clinical environment.
Doctor Cartwright leads me to the end of the hall and opens the door to a small, private room. The space is bathed in soft, muted light from a single overhead fixture. Eva is lying on the hospital bed, her face pale and covered in bruises. Her breathing is steady but shallow, a rhythmic rise and fall beneath the white hospital sheets.
I walk slowly to her bedside, my heart aching at the sight of her vulnerable state. Her once vibrant eyes are closed, her usual bright spirit dimmed by the pain she must be enduring. The room feels too quiet, and I can’t help but feel a crushing sense of responsibility for what happened to her.
I pull a chair close to the bed and sit down, reaching out to take her hand gently in mine. “Eva,” I whisper, my voice breaking as I struggle to hold back my tears. “I’m here. I’m so sorry. I should have been there sooner.”
Her hand feels limp in mine, but I squeeze it gently, hoping she can sense my presence and the depth of my concern. I glance up at Doctor Cartwright, who is standing quietly near the door, giving me some space.
“Is there anything I can do to help her?” I ask, my voice trembling with urgency.
Doctor Cartwright shakes his head. “Right now, she needs rest. We’ll keep monitoring her closely and manage her pain. If she wakes up, we’ll do our best to get her to talk. But for now, just being here with her might be the most comforting thing you can do.”
I nod, feeling the weight of helplessness pressing down on me. I turn my attention back to Eva, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Just hang in there, Eva,” I murmur. “I’m not going anywhere.”