Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
HALLWAY OUTSIDE COMMAND
The meeting broke apart slowly. People gathered their notes and tablets and stepped into the hallway. Maps and weather charts remained scattered across the table behind them. The storm display on the wall showed the slow rotation as the typhoon bands edged closer to the island chain.
Ford watched the room empty, then looked down at the map still spread across the table.
Tevenne. On paper, it was nothing more than a small shape drawn in thin ink.
But the weight attached to that island now was enormous.
Dozens of pregnant girls. Newborns. A virus spreading through both populations.
A storm approaching that could cut them off completely.
“Ford.” Hunter stood in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. “We need to talk.”
Ford let out a low breath. “Now?”
Hunter looked directly at him. “When did it happen?”
“When did what happen?”
Hunter gestured toward the clinic around them. “This.”
Ford gave a tired half smile. “Running command? That’s not exactly new.”
Hunter shook his head. “No. You almost killed yourself before.” His voice softened slightly. “That isn’t what I mean.”
Ford leaned back against the wall. “What do you mean?”
Hunter studied him for a little bit. “When did Eira happen?”
Ford didn’t answer.
Hunter continued, “You lost a patient. And you nearly lost control when you saw her standing beside Véronique.”
Ford glanced down the hallway toward the pediatric wing. “She has a one-hundred-and-four-degree fever.”
Hunter shook his head. “That isn’t the point.” He stepped a little closer. “I’ve seen you in crisis situations before.”
A tunnel in New York City crossed his mind. “And?”
“You do not lose control.”
Ford let out a slow breath. “Everyone has limits.”
“No.” Hunter shook his head again. “You have her.”
The words hung between them as Ford rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I didn’t plan it.”
Hunter nodded. “No one ever does. So when?”
Ford looked down the hall again toward the pediatric room, where Eira had fallen asleep beside Véronique’s bed. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
Hunter almost smiled. “That bad?”
Ford let out a breath. “Yes.”
Hunter leaned back against the opposite wall. “You realize she is the most stubborn person on the planet.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“And she’s going to be furious when she hears about this trip to Tevenne.”
Ford nodded. “Definitely.”
Hunter studied him for another second. “If you get yourself killed over there…”
Ford raised an eyebrow. “That’s encouraging.”
Hunter didn’t smile. “She will never forgive you.”
“I guess I better come back.”
“Good plan.” Hunter pushed himself away from the wall. Someone down the hallway called for more oxygen tanks. “I need to get back to the maternity room.”
Ford nodded. “And I have a boat to prepare.”
Hunter started down the hall, then stopped and looked back. “One more thing.” He nodded toward the pediatric wing. “You were right about something.”
“What?”
Hunter gave a faint smile. “She helped Véronique.” He continued down the hallway, leaving Ford standing alone with everything that was about to happen.
PEDIATRIC WARD
The hallway outside the pediatric room finally grew quiet.
For hours, the clinic was a constant rush of footsteps, voices, and equipment carts.
Now most of the staff moved toward the tents or the maternity wing where the newest patients were being treated.
Through the window, Eira could see the tops of the palm trees beginning to sway as the storm winds gathered strength.
The lights from the clinic courtyard stretched long shadows across the floor.
Inside the room, peace felt fragile. Véronique slept in the bed beside her.
The oxygen mask rested gently against the child’s face while the high-flow unit breathed with a soft, steady hiss.
The monitor next to the bed blinked calmly now—94.
Eira had watched that number climb slowly for the past hour, and every small increase felt like a victory.
Her own fever hadn’t fully broken yet. She could still feel the heat in her skin and the dull ache behind her eyes. Karine insisted she lie down, her bed placed flush with Véronique’s so she could rest while staying close. Eira had no intention of leaving the little girl alone.
Véronique had slipped past Eira’s defenses without force, without demand. Two years old, silent, found curled in the dark hold of a boat, she had refused to speak for days, watching everything with wide, unblinking eyes.
Eira had treated her like the others at first. But Véronique stayed. She followed. She reached out without asking, her small hand finding Eira’s coat, her sleeve, her presence. No words, just insistence.
And somehow, without Eira ever deciding to let it happen, the child settled into the space she kept guarded from everyone else. Only Kavi had come close to that. But Véronique did it differently. She didn’t push. She simply remained until Eira realized she was no longer keeping her out.
She heard footsteps in the hallway and looked up as the door opened. Ford stepped inside.
Even before he spoke, she saw the exhaustion in his posture. The entire clinic was leaning on him all night, and the strain showed in the tight set of his shoulders.
He cocked his head. “You’re still awake.”
“Barely.” She gave him a tired smile.
He moved closer to Véronique’s bed and checked the monitor. “She’s stable.”
Eira looked at the girl again. “She held my hand until she fell asleep.”
Ford nodded. “She does that.”
Eira watched him for an instant before speaking again. “You yelled at me.”
He let out a slow breath. “You were standing with a one-hundred-and-four-degree fever.”
“I was helping.”
“You were about to pass out.”
She tilted her head slightly. “You were yelling about Véronique too.”
Ford rested his hand against the bed rail. “She scared me.”
Eira studied him carefully. “Me or her?”
“Both.”
“You lost a patient.” Eira reached for his hand.
Ford lifted her palm to his lips. “I can’t lose anyone else.”
He was telling her he couldn’t lose her or Véronique. She shifted slightly under the blanket. “You’re going to Tevenne.” It was not a question.
“You heard the meeting?”
“I hear everything.”
He nodded. “I should’ve known that.”
Eira kept her eyes on him. “It’s a bad idea.”
“Probably.”
“And you’re going anyway.”
“I am.”
She sighed tearfully. “That is very you.”
“I’ll be careful.” He leaned back against the wall.
She gave him a look. “You’re terrible at that.”
“I’m working on it.”
Her voice softened as she spoke again. “You don’t even know what’s waiting over there.”
“We have some ideas.”
“Fifty pregnant girls.”
“Maybe more.”
“Newborns.”
“Probably.”
She closed her eyes briefly, picturing it. A crowded maternity ward filled with frightened girls and sick infants. “And a virus.”
Ford didn’t argue with that. “I’m taking the prophylaxis, and I have a respirator.”
When she opened her eyes again, she looked directly at him. “Promise me something.”
“What?”
“You’ll come back.”
Ford glanced toward Véronique’s bed and then back at her. “I will.”
The answer came too quickly.
“You promised that too easily.”
“I plan to keep it.”
Eira reached across the narrow space between the beds and caught his wrist. His skin was cool against her fevered hand. “Ford.”
He looked down at her.
“You matter to people here,” she said.
“I know.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She studied his face for another moment, searching for something she could trust. “You matter to me.”
“I love you.” His tone was thick with emotion.
She let her hand fall back to the blanket. “Alright.”
Ford pulled a chair beside Véronique’s bed and sat down. Eira watched him with heavy eyes.
“You should sleep,” he said softly.
“You should too.”
“Later.”
The fever dragged at her thoughts again, making it harder to keep her eyes open. “You’re stubborn.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
A faint smile touched her lips as fever and exhaustion finally pulled her down. The last thing she saw before sleep took her was Ford sitting between the two beds, watching over Véronique and her.
Somewhere beyond the island, the storm was gathering strength. And he was preparing to sail straight into it.