In the room next door, the machines hummed a steady, rhythmic pulse. Ruby lay still, her arm heavily bandaged, her face pale against the white pillows. The bullet had missed her vital organs, but the blood loss had been severe.
Max sat by her bed, his hand gripping hers so tightly his knuckles were white. He looked at the news on the flat screen; the world was still reeling from the "Violet Brown" revelation. The woman who had died twenty years ago was now a living nightmare, and Max knew that even though the warehouse was gone, the hunt was just beginning.
"Wake up, Ruby," he whispered into the quiet room. "I can't do this part without you."
Just as he spoke, the monitor blipped. Ruby's fingers twitched under his.
The rhythmic beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor was the first thing Ruby heard. It felt like a needle stitching its way through her skull. Her eyelids felt like lead, stuck together by salt and exhaustion.
"Ruby? Ruby, can you hear me?"
