Beneath His Cold Vows novel Chapter 3

The ground tilted under my foot.

"Your sister...collapsed," Edward repeated, his voice clipped, tight around the edges.

Collapsed. The word rang in my skull, a bell struck too hard.

My body moved before the thought fully formed. Bag in one hand, shoes barely on, I demanded, "What hospital?" My voice broke like it couldn't carry the weight of the words.

"St. Luke's," he said. "She's already in the ER."

I didn't look at him. Couldn't. My pulse raced, chest constricted as if my ribs were closing in on my heart.

We were out the door in seconds. The night hit cold and sharp against my face as we crossed the driveway.

This couldn't be happening. Not again.

"I will drive you, you can't drive in this state," Edward said.

I nodded.

The car roared to life. Edward's usual collected driving vanished; he weaved through traffic with a speed that looked like it could keep my sister alive. His jaw was locked, eyes glued to the road, headlights carving tunnels of light through the rain.

The city whipped by in streaks of red and gold.

"She was fine last week," I murmured, mostly to the storm outside, my voice shaking.

Edward's silence pressed down on me until it hurt.

"She had the surgery," I said again, like saying it enough times would make it true. "She was getting better."

My hands were fists in my lap.

“Sometimes complications happen,” Edward said finally, his voice precise, each word placed too carefully. “The doctors will know what to do.”

His calmness cut like glass. I wanted to scream until he felt what I felt—this rising tide of panic tearing through bone and breath—but I kept silent, staring through rain-smeared windows as the hospital lights finally appeared ahead, a lifeline in the dark.

He parked. I ran.

Inside was chaos: phone ringing, nurses in motion, antiseptic in the air that I have almost gotten accustomed to.

"My sister," I gasped at the desk. "Lily Perez. She was brought in—"

"Waiting area," the nurse said, pointing without looking up. "The doctor will speak with you soon."

Waiting. As if I could sit still.

I stood there, arms clamped around myself like I could hold my heart in place.

Edward stood beside me, expressionless, unreadable. A statue in the bright hospital light.

Minutes dragged like hours. My parents appeared, pale and frantic, my mother's rosary clicking through trembling fingers, my father looking older in the space of a single night.

"Alicia," my mom whispered, pulling me into a hug that hurt. Her hands quivered against my back. "They said she collapsed at school. Just fainted. Then...then she wouldn't wake up."

My chest felt as if someone had scooped it Hollow.

The doctor finally appeared, young and exhausted, charts under his arm.

"Family of Lily Perez?"

We crowded him instantly.

"She's stable," he said first, and my knees nearly buckled in relief.

"But," he added, flipping through papers, "her heart is under a lot of stress. The surgery fixed the defect, but sometimes the body doesn't respond as we expect. We need more tests tonight. She may need another procedure."

"Another surgery?" My mother's voice splintered in the middle.

The doctor nodded. "We'll know more soon."

"Can we see her?" I asked.

"Only one at a time for now," he said.

My mom went first, clutching her rosary like it was the only thing holding her together.

Fifteen minutes later, she returned with red-rimmed eyes, fingers knotted around the beads. "She's so small in there," she breathed, and my father pulled her close.

It was my turn.

The nurse nodded, and my shoes squeaked on the floor as I followed her down the hall.

The door clicked shut behind me.

The world went quiet.

Lily lay on the bed, pale against too-white sheets, an oxygen tube under her nose, the heart monitor tracing green peaks and valleys in constant rhythm. Machines beeped softly, impersonal and indifferent, uncaring of who she was or how much I needed her to stay alive.

I stood rooted at the foot of the bed.

She looked younger somehow. Smaller. Her hair fanned out on the pillow, an IV taped to her arm, bruises blooming dark against her skin.

"Hey," I whispered, my voice shaking. "It's me."

Her eyelids fluttered, barely opening, struggling to surface from somewhere far away.

My throat tightened, the words scraping their way out.

"You scared me," I said, moving closer until I could wrap my hand around hers. It was cold. Too fragile. "You don't get to do this again, okay? Not you. Not now."

The monitor beeped on, unfeeling.

I sat down, leaning close so she could hear me even if she wasn't really there.

"Remember last week? We were going to watch that ridiculous movie you love. The one with the talking dog? I didn't forget. So you have to get better, Lilly. You have to."

She didn't answer.

The nurse came in after a few minutes, checking the monitors, telling me my time was almost up.

I stood, smoothing her hair back from her forehead, blinking hard so the tears wouldn't fall on her.

"I'll be right outside," I whispered again. "I'm not going anywhere."

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