25. Amara
AMARA
June's at school. I've triple-checked the route, made sure her teacher has my number on speed dial, confirmed the after-school program knows to call me for anything unusual. Paranoia has become my default setting.
The grocery store on Amsterdam is quiet at ten in the morning.
Older women with canvas bags, a few stay-at-home parents navigating aisles with toddlers strapped into carts.
I grab a basket, start filling it with things we need—pasta, tomatoes, bread that June will actually eat instead of dissecting into component parts.
My phone rings. Unknown number. I let it go to voicemail, continue down the produce aisle. It rings again immediately. Same number.
I answer, already preparing to hang up on whatever journalist found my contact information. "What?"
"Ms. Campbell?" It's a male voice, one I don't recognize at first. It's too grainy.
"Who's asking?"
"It's Lucian Griffin. I apologize for the intrusion, but I need to speak with you. It's urgent."
The basket nearly slips from my hand. Lucian Griffin doesn't call people directly. He has assistants for that, layers of insulation between himself and anyone below executive level.
I let out an exasperated sigh. "What do you want, Mr. Griffin?"
"Cassian has been involved in a car accident." His voice remains steady but something underneath sounds like strain. "He's at Mount Sinai Hospital. He would want to see you."
The words don't land at first. They bounce off some protective barrier my brain throws up against information it can't process. Cassian. Car accident. Hospital.
"What… What happened?"
"I don't have all the details yet, but he's stable. Conscious. The doctors are running tests." A pause. "Miss Campbell, I know the situation between you and my son is complicated. I know you've asked for distance. But he's been asking for you since he regained consciousness."
My legs stop working. I grab the edge of a shelf stocked with apples to keep myself upright. "How bad?"
"Head trauma, some lacerations, possible internal injuries.
They're monitoring him closely but he's responsive.
That's what matters right now. Raylin Hart was driving.
She's in surgery. Critical condition." His tone shifts, becomes harder.
"This wasn't an accident, Miss Campbell.
From what witnesses described, she drove erratically and deliberately.
Cassian grabbed the wheel trying to stop her but the car still crashed. "
Raylin. Of course. The woman who leaked June's photos, who threatened to destroy everything, who couldn't accept that Cassian would never want her. She tried to kill them both.
"Where's Mount Sinai?"
"I'll text you the address and have a car sent to your location?—"
"No. I'll get there myself." I'm already moving toward the exit, basket abandoned somewhere behind me. "What room?"
"ICU, third floor. I'll meet you at the nurses' station."
The call ends. I stand on the sidewalk outside the grocery store, hands shaking so badly I nearly drop my phone. Cassian's hurt in a hospital. Asking for me.
I can't lose him. Not when I spent weeks pushing him away, not when June's just starting to ask questions about her father, not when I've been too stubborn and scared to admit that I still…
I shake my head, clearing it of distracting thoughts.
My Uber arrives in four minutes. The driver tries making conversation but gives up when I don't respond to anything he says. Manhattan traffic crawls, every red light lasting an eternity, pedestrians crossing with infuriating slowness.
Mount Sinai looms ahead. The driver pulls to the curb. I throw tip money at him without checking the amount and shove the door open before he fully stops.
The lobby's chaos. Information desk, security checkpoint, visitors signing in, medical staff rushing past in scrubs. I find the elevator, hit the button for the third floor, lean against the wall while my heart tries to beat its way out of my chest.
The doors open. ICU stretches ahead with muted colors, quiet voices,and the mechanical beep of monitors blending into white noise. Lucian Griffin stands near the nurses' station, phone pressed to his ear. He sees me, ends the call mid-sentence.
"Miss Campbell."
"Where is he?"
"Room 312." He gestures down the hallway. "The doctors just finished their examination. They'll want to observe him overnight but the prognosis is good. No internal bleeding, the head trauma is minor, mostly superficial injuries."
Relief floods through me so fast my knees buckle. Lucian catches my elbow, steadies me with surprising gentleness.
"He's alright. Cassian's going to be fine."
"And Raylin?"
His jaw tightens. "Still in surgery. Her father's with her now.
Leonard threatened legal action against Cassian, claimed my son caused the accident.
" He releases my arm. "But we have witnesses.
Multiple people saw Raylin driving erratically, saw her fighting Cassian for the wheel.
The police are treating this as reckless endangerment at minimum.
But I would recommend attempted murder charges, in all honesty. "
Good. Let them throw every charge they have at her. Let her face consequences for once instead of skating by on family connections and manufactured charm.
"Can I see him?"
"Yes. But Miss Campbell—" Lucian stops me with a hand on my shoulder. "He recorded their conversation. Before the accident. Raylin admitted everything on tape—leaking the photos, sabotaging your reputation, considering false reports to CPS. That recording survived the crash intact."
The words take a moment to sink in. Cassian recorded her confession. He baited her into admitting what she'd done, probably planning to expose her publicly, except she figured it out and tried to kill them both.
"Where's the recording now?"
"With the police as evidence. But I have a copy.
And when this is over, when Raylin's facing charges and the media moves on, we'll make sure everyone knows the truth about what she did.
" His expression softens slightly. "My son loves you.
Deeply, perhaps more than is entirely healthy.
He risked everything to protect you and June.
That recording could've gotten him killed. "
"I know. I've always known. I was just too scared to let him back in."
"Fear is logical given your history. But Cassian's not going anywhere. He'll fight for you and June until his last breath." He steps back. "Go see him. He's been asking for you nonstop."
I move down the hallway on legs that don't feel entirely steady. Room 312 sits at the end, door cracked open. I push it wider.
Cassian's propped up in bed, hospital gown looking ridiculous against his frame, bandage wrapped around his head, small cuts marking his face and arms. But he's awake, and when he sees me, relief transforms his entire expression.
"Amara."
I'm across the room before I realize I've moved, perched on the edge of his bed, hands hovering near his face like I'm afraid touching him will make him disappear.
"You're an idiot."
He smiles weakly. "I know."
"Recording Raylin? Getting in a car with her when you knew she was unstable?"
"In my defense, I didn't think she'd try to kill us both."
"That doesn't make it better!" My voice cracks. Tears I've been holding back since Lucian's call spill over. "You could've died. You could've—" I can't finish the sentence. Can't voice the fear that's been clawing at me since I walked into this hospital.
His hand finds mine, fingers threading together despite the IV line taped to his wrist. "I'm okay. Bruised and probably concussed but okay."
"Your father said head trauma. Internal injuries."
"Minor head trauma. No internal injuries. The doctors cleared me already, they're just keeping me for observation." He squeezes my hand. "I'm sorry I scared you."
"You should be."
We sit like that for a long moment. His hand in mine, my tears soaking into the thin hospital blanket, machines beeping steady rhythms around us.
"June's been asking about you," I say quietly. "She's confused about whether she has a father."
His expression shifts to something painful. "What did you tell her?"
"That it's complicated. That I needed to explain things properly." I wipe my face with my free hand. "I've been trying to protect her from the media circus and ended up confusing her more. She deserves the truth."
"When this settles down, when Raylin's facing charges and the attention dies, we'll tell her together.
" His thumb traces circles on my palm. "I want to be her father, Amara.
Not just biologically but actually present.
Reading bedtime stories, teaching her about horses, answering her impossible questions about squids and unicorns. "
"She'd like that. She talks about you constantly even though she doesn't understand who you are yet."
"And you?" His eyes search mine. "What do you want?"
I could deflect, make it about June, keep my walls intact. But sitting here in this hospital room with him bandaged and bruised after nearly dying, the walls feel pointless.
"I want you back in our lives. Properly, not just with scheduled visits and lawyers coordinating custody. I want June to know her father and I want—" I stop, force myself to say it. "I want us. Whatever that looks like. Even if it's messy and complicated and the media makes it hell for a while."
His hand tightens on mine. "I love you. I've loved you since college, loved you through six years of not knowing where you were, loved you through this entire disaster. That's not changing."
"I love you too." The words come easier than expected. "I've been too scared to admit it, too convinced I didn't deserve this, but I love you and I'm tired of running."
He pulls me closer until I'm half-lying across his chest, careful of his injuries. His lips find mine. Soft, tentative, tasting like antiseptic and relief.
"We're going to figure this out," he says against my mouth. "All of it. The collaboration, June, dealing with whatever fallout comes from Raylin's arrest. But we do it together."
I nod, tracing pattern into his skin.
The door opens. A nurse peers in, sees us, smiles apologetically. "Sorry to interrupt, but visiting hours in ICU are limited. You have about ten more minutes."
"Can she stay longer?" Cassian asks. "Please?"
The nurse considers this. "Family only after visiting hours end."
"She's my family."
The nurse's smile widens slightly. "Then I guess she can stay as long as she wants."
She leaves. I settle more comfortably against Cassian's side, his arm wrapped around me despite the awkward angle.
"Your father knows," I say. "That you love me. He told me before I came in."
"Did he give you the 'my son will fight for you until his last breath' speech?"
"Something like that."
"He's not wrong. I'm insufferably stubborn when I want something."
"I've noticed."
We stay like that until visiting hours end officially, until Lucian reappears to say Leonard Hart's making threats and the police need statements, until reality intrudes on this brief pocket of peace.
But for now, for these stolen minutes, I let myself have this. Cassian alive and whole, his heartbeat steady under my palm, the promise of figuring out everything else later hanging between us like hope finally allowed to breathe.