Chapter 27
ALEX
I roll my shoulders as Elijah and I are led down a dim corridor in New York Presbyterian.
It’s eerily quiet for a city that never sleeps, and the sharp mix of disinfectant and stale vomit makes my stomach churn.
We round a corner and stop in front of a door with a small square window; two empty chairs are stationed outside like guards.
Anxious for a glimpse inside, we lean in at the same time and bump heads. I pull back with a wince, but Elijah stays staring straight ahead. Gabriel is at Noah’s bedside, forehead resting on his chest. His shiny hair fans out like paper across the blanket.
“Oh Jesus,” Elijah mutters. “He doesn’t look good.”
I nudge him. “How can you even see?” I stretch my neck, trying to get an angle. “Gabriel is in the way.”
He finally looks at me. “I wasn’t talking about Noah.”
“Oh.”
I glance back into the room, my focus shifting to Gabriel. His broad shoulders tremble against Noah’s still form—he’s crying, I know it. That mess of hair hides Noah from view.
“I guess I should go in.”
Elijah gives me a faint smile and nods. “Send Gabriel out, please,” he says, and I have to swallow my jealousy. We’re a family. There’s no space for jealousy.
I slip quietly into the room, taking Elijah’s coffee with me.
Gabriel’s head snaps up, tired gray eyes locking onto mine. I offer him the coffee and rest my hand on his shoulder. “Come on,” I say gently, giving his shoulder a squeeze and sliding my hand across the tight line of his trapezius. The muscles tense beneath my touch. “Elijah’s waiting for you.”
His hair brushes my knuckles as he turns back toward Noah. I follow his gaze. Noah sleeps soundly, soft puffs of air passing through parted lips, long lashes resting against pale cheeks. He looks… ethereal.
“I’ll watch over him,” I promise.
Gabriel rises from the chair and lifts Noah’s limp hand up to his lips, pressing it gently against his tear-streaked mouth. An IV pierces a pale-blue vein, and he runs his thumb softly along it.
“Thank you, Alex,” he says, voice rough, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite land.
I have a thousand questions. What the hell happened?
What does he want? We’re not even that close.
Not really. Did something happen that I missed?
Did I do something? Did you? I don’t understand, and the not knowing is making my chest tighten.
I want to ask Gabriel, demand answers, shake the truth out of someone—but now isn’t the time.
Not with Noah like this. So I just nod and give Gabriel a light pat on the back, pretending like I’m calm, even as my mind spins in circles.
Gabriel crosses to the door, where Elijah waits, holding it open. I cringe when he leans into Elijah’s neck, nuzzling close. Elijah meets my eyes—gentle, steady—then wraps Gabriel in his arms and quietly pulls the door shut behind them.