They were moving fast. Disconnecting monitors. Preparing to move the gurney. Someone was doing compressions on Kael's chest.
Asher couldn't look away.
The gurney moved. Toward the doors. Toward him.
The doors opened.
They wheeled Kael past. Close enough that Asher could see his face.
White. Lifeless. Blood on his temple. Oxygen mask fogging slightly with shallow breaths.
Still breathing.
Barely.
Their eyes didn't meet. Kael's were closed.
Then he was past. Being wheeled toward the surgical elevators.
A doctor stopped beside Asher. Scrubs covered in blood—Kael's blood. "Are you family?"
"Yes," Asher said again.
"Gunshot wound to the left chest. Bullet entered below the clavicle, through the lung, and we think into or near the heart. He's lost a significant amount of blood. We're taking him to surgery now. It'll be several hours. I need you to understand—" The doctor paused. Choosing words carefully. "This is critical. The next few hours will determine if he survives."
