Ash's POV
The clock on the wall ticked—each second a reminder that time was slipping away.
24 hours.
That's how long they had before the witch struck again.
And Opal?
She still hadn't woken up.
Ash hadn't left her side.
His body was aching with exhaustion, his muscles stiff, his eyes burning from lack of sleep. But he didn't move. Didn't rest.
Because what if she stopped breathing?
What if he closed his eyes, just for a moment—
And she was gone?
He couldn't risk it.
Not now. Not ever.
Across the room, Kael sat in the chair next to the hospital bed.
The silence between them was less tense than before.
It wasn't comfortable—Ash doubted it ever would be—but it wasn't full of rage, either.
Both of them were waiting. Watching. Hoping.
And in moments like this, when death was creeping too close, when the weight of uncertainty pressed down like a storm cloud—
Even Ash needed someone to talk to.
Small Talk and Bigger Truths
