Whispers of Ruin

ste'

al lights

ood Medical remained sterile and humming too bright, too cold. Machines beeped steadily like artificial heart

ching, her surgical mask dangling beneath her chin. She'd been on her feet for nine hours. The ache in h

boy wa

ow, that

rising shallowly beneath wires and blinking monitors. A congenital defect. A risky procedure. A miracle, some would call it

team. Her gamble had w

ing inside her

ne she would never meet the boy who

that didn't belong to her. A stolen cadence. A gift sh

g with a quiet cruelty that offered no warning and no mercy. Then suddenl

list. No explanation. Only whispers and a signed f

ound out who

somewhere died s

ds sealed. Paper trails gone cold. Her father's answer rem

and quiet victories in the operating room. But she never stopped feeling i

ocket of her coat, snappi

opening

Wine optional.

u

er to come, said it was "a cultural requirement for burnout doctors." Celeste had promised she'd tr

hospital could spar

l beams painted black, with gold pendant lights casting pools of warmth over cold concrete floors. Jaz

g open at the collar. Her hair was pulled into a low knot, her lips stained a muted red. She looked the part

that nearly stole her breath. A heart, fractured in two, with threads of cr

beneath it re

left, low and calm. "A heart torn apart

tu

st gold near the edges. His hair curled slightly where it met his collar, and the

. No companion nearby. Just hi

, cautious. "You a coll

mpress. It barely reached his eyes. "Neither.

his presence. Not in the way of memory bu

ing her weight, extending her han

ed, almost as an afterthough

I didn't say I

didn't have to. Your posture, the hands, the shoes. The exhausti

een flattery and suspicion. "Surgical,"

ame Luna, waving wildly near the bar. She gave an apologetic smile and turned

indow from a safe distance. Behind the glass, Celeste moved with grace, laughing at something her frie

't what caugh

looked tired. Not spoiled

ok haunted, he thou

ved because my

ket. He pulled it out, alre

m:

rride. Pulled by Araya Sr. Politi

Elias's voice echoed in the back of his mind, laughing, stubborn, full of plans. His yo

ttered. Not when the A

ot because he needed it but because it reminded him he wa

only the

, her routines, her circle. He knew where she volunteered, what time she left work, how she drank he

one to pull it a

his breath, flicking the ash to the ground. "Let

red into the shadows his pla

lik