Chapter 50
A soft beeping echoed in the sterile white room. Steady, rhythmic, like a clock marking time that Karla had long forgotten.
Her eyes twitched beneath their lids, and after a long moment, they finally fluttered open.
The harsh ceiling lights stabbed into her pupils, and she winced, raising an arm that felt like it had been dipped in concrete. Her throat was dry. Her head ached. But she was alive.
Barely.
She shifted slightly, then froze when she noticed the silhouette seated by the far wall. Her vision cleared just enough to make out the broad shoulders, the familiar messy dark hair.
Ronan.
He was slouched in a metal chair, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he stared blankly at the floor. He didn't even look up when she stirred. His face, his expression was devoid of emotion. Cold. Unreadable.
Karla swallowed hard.
"You're... here," she said weakly.
"I had to make sure you woke up," Ronan replied, voice flat.
