Miguel POV
The steady beeping of the heart monitor was almost soothing now, a reminder that Diego was alive. Breathing. Stable.
I was slouched in the uncomfortable hospital chair, my head resting against the cold steel bar. Sleep hadn't come easily, but exhaustion had finally forced me under.
The sound of a door clicking open stirred me awake.
Isabel entered, holding two cups of coffee, her eyes tired but alert.
"You look terrible," she whispered, setting one cup on the tray beside me.
I sat up, my back stiff. "Yeah, well... so do you."
Her lips curled in the faintest smile before she turned toward Diego.
He was awake. Barely. His eyelids fluttered, lips parting as he tried to speak.
I shot up, my pulse racing. "Diego? Hey—are you with me?"
His head tilted slightly toward the sound of my voice. His pale skin seemed even more fragile under the harsh hospital lighting, but his breathing was steady.
