VIVIAN
The hospital room is sterile. White walls. Machines beeping. Chase hooked to IV. Pale. Barely conscious.
I've been here three hours. Since the ambulance brought him. Since he collapsed in my arms. Since truth spell and curse collided and nearly killed him.
The doctors don't know what's wrong. Tests come back normal. Physically, he's fine. But he won't wake fully. Just drifts. In and out. Muttering. Talking. Confessing.
The truth spell is still active. Helena said 24 hours. It's been twelve. Twelve more hours of forced honesty while unconscious. While vulnerable. While unable to control what spills out.
I should leave. Give him privacy. Let him suffer through this alone.
But I can't. Can't walk away. Can't stop listening. Can't ignore the confessions pouring out every time he stirs.
"Vivian," Chase mutters. Eyes closed. Barely conscious. "Loved you since college. Since the first party. Since you laughed at my joke. Since everything."
