The drive to the hospital was a blur of flashing streetlights and screeching tires. Theodore's eyes darted back and forth between the road and Bella, whose labored breaths and pained expressions tore at his heart.
His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white with tension. Anger churned within him—not just at O'Neil, but at himself for failing to protect Bella.
"Just hold on," he mumbled. "We're almost there."
Bella's vision was fading, the pain becoming a distant echo. She barely registered Theodore's voice, feeling a strange calm as her consciousness ebbed. The throbbing ache seemed to dull, replaced by a heavy numbness.
