Chapter 13 - The Breach
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I was on the absolute edge of darkness. My vision behind my closed eyelids was exploding into frantic bursts of red and black. My lungs were burning, violently spasming against the heavy plaster cast that held my ribs in place. I was seconds away from losing consciousness entirely.
Then, the heavy hospital door exploded inward.
The sound cracked through the quiet ICU like a thunderclap. The violence of the entry was so sudden that Cordelia jerked backward in shock. The pillow flew from her gloved hands, tumbling through the air to land near the foot of my bed.
Cold, stale hospital air rushed over my face. I dragged it through my flattened nose in a ragged, broken, agonizing pull that felt like swallowing jagged glass. My heart monitor, registering my sudden, violent spike in heart rate, erupted into a frantic, high-pitched alarm.
Jonah Mercer filled the doorway. His trench coat was dripping with rain, and his hand was still extended from where he had shoved the heavy door open. Behind him stood Detective Mara Ellison and her partner, both with their service weapons drawn, their faces masks of grim, furious professional outrage. A night nurse peeked around the doorframe behind them, gasping in horror.
Cordelia recovered with terrifying speed. Women of her class spend their entire lives practicing expressions for every occasion. She quickly cycled through shock, then concern, settling firmly on aristocratic outrage.
“What is the meaning of this?” Cordelia demanded, her voice echoing sharply. “She was struggling to breathe! I was simply adjusting her pillow!”
Detective Ellison stepped fully into the room, her gun lowered but ready. “Cordelia Voss. Step away from the bed. Now.”
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Cordelia drew herself up, her eyes flashing with indignant fire. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
Jonah held up his cell phone. “Yes,” he said softly. “We know exactly who you are.”
