I returned with a basin of warm water, silently wiping the grime from his skin.
His fingers clamped around my wrist. His gaze locked onto my palm—raw, abraded, bloody. "How did this happen? Who hurt you?"
I studied the concern in his eyes. It looked so real.
"Someone who looks exactly like you," I said softly. "At The Regent Hotel."
Sebastian's jaw tightened. The muscles in his neck corded.
I forced a smile. "But I know that wasn't you. You would never lie to me, right?"
His eyes darted away, then returned—overly earnest. "Of course. You're the most important person in my life, Savvy. I would never deceive you."
The sting of unshed tears burned my throat. I swallowed it, pulled my hand free, and wheeled him out of the kitchen.
After dinner was served, the living room stayed empty.
The bedroom door stood ajar. A hushed voice drifted out.
"Stella, behave. I've prepared a huge surprise for tomorrow. I'll celebrate your birthday personally."
On the other end, Stella's voice was sugary, whining. "But tomorrow... isn't that my sister's birthday too? If you don't stay with her, won't she be sad?"
"Silly girl. You're my treasure. Savvy stopped celebrating years ago. She's used to it."
Stella squealed with delight. "I knew you treated me best!"
I stood frozen in the doorway, shadows swallowing me whole.
Finally, I untied my apron, draped it over a chair, and walked out.
When Sebastian wheeled himself out of the bedroom, the house was silent.
A bowl of noodle soup sat on the table, no longer steaming. Beside it lay his imported medication, carefully wrapped.
Usually, Savannah would have already left for her night shift.
An image flashed—her bloodless face, the vicious abrasion on her palm, a spine so thin it looked ready to snap.
Dread coiled in his gut.
He snatched up his phone and dialed.
The next day, Fort Valor General Hospital.
I took Sebastian for his follow-up.
The attending doctor beamed, practically vibrating. "Miss Simmons! Great news. A research institute in the capital developed a targeted drug with miraculous effects on ALS. I fought hard to secure a trial slot for General James!"
My voice stayed flat. "What's the probability of recovery?"
"Over eighty percent!"
Sebastian played his part perfectly. His eyes reddened. "Savvy... I can get better. I can stay with you..."
I tugged my mouth into a faint, hollow smile. "If only one of us can live, I hope it's you. No matter what."
He froze, brows knitting. "What kind of nonsense is that? We'll both live long lives. Once I recover and return to active duty, you'll be right beside me—the pride of Fort Valor's sniper division."
Pride.
I didn't want that title anymore.
Just as I didn't want him.
"The examination is complex," the doctor said, ushering me toward the door. "Please wait outside."
I knew it was just an excuse.
I stood at the corner of the corridor, hidden by the wall.
Moments later, the door opened. Sebastian emerged. He'd shed the patient gown. He walked with steady, powerful strides toward the elevator—his paralysis miraculously gone.
Downstairs, the familiar black sedan with military plates waited.
I withdrew my gaze. Turned. Walked to the consultation room at the far end.
Inside, the atmosphere was suffocating.
"Miss Simmons, the tumor has compressed the primary nerves," the specialist said. "You've lost the window for surgery."
He sighed, removing his glasses. "If you'd come half a month ago... there might have been hope. Now? Days. Go home. Say your goodbyes."
I sat in silence for a long time before nodding.
"After I pass, cremate me immediately," I whispered. "Send the ashes to Westhill Military Residence. Address them to General Sebastian James."
I left my last cash on the desk and walked out.
My phone lit up. A new message.
Come to the residence. There's something you need to see.
