Chapter 155

The hospital room was too quiet. Only the steady beep of monitors and the whisper of the oxygen machine broke the silence. Camille sat beside Victoria’s bed, her hand gently holding the older woman’s fragile fingers. Three days had passed since the bombing. Three days of watching Victoria struggle, hour by hour.

The doctors had explained it in simple terms at first: Victoria’s body, already fighting cancer, couldn’t handle the additional strain of smoke inhalation and shock. Her lungs were struggling. Her heart was weakening. Each breath seemed to cost her more than the last.

Camille leaned forward, studying Victoria’s pale face. The woman who had always seemed invincible now looked small against the white hospital sheets. The tubes and wires connected to her body only emphasized her fragility.

“You need to eat something,” Alexander said softly from the doorway. He carried a paper bag that smelled of soup and bread.

Camille shook her head without looking up.