42. Russ
Russ
The monitor spikes.
Sharp.
Sudden.
My head snaps up.
“What—”
The door bursts open.
Nurses rush in.
“Step back!”
I don’t.
I can’t.
“What’s happening?”
“Her heart rate is dropping!”
No.
No, no, no.
They move around me, fast, controlled—
but urgent.
Too urgent.
“She’s crashing again.”
The words hit like a physical blow.
I step back just enough to let them work.
Not enough to leave.
Never that.
“Olivia.”
No response.
Her body lies still under their hands.
Machines beep faster.
Then slower.
Wrong.
Everything is wrong.
“Come on,” I mutter.
Come on.
A nurse adjusts something.
Another calls out numbers.
“Stay with me,” I say, louder now.
Like she can hear me over everything.
Like she’ll answer.
She doesn’t.
My chest tightens so hard it almost stops my breath.
“No.”
The word slips out before I can stop it.
I step closer again.
“Olivia, you fight.”
Nothing.
“Do you hear me? You fight!”
A nurse glances at me but doesn’t say anything.
Doesn’t stop me.
Good.
Because I’m not stopping.
“You don’t get to give up now!”
My voice breaks.
I don’t care.
“You’re stronger than this. You always have been. I read your file. I know how strong you are.”
The monitor dips again.
Lower.
Lower—
“Come on!” I snap, my hand gripping the edge of the bed so hard it hurts. “You don’t leave me like this!”
Silence—
Then—
A spike.
Sharp.
Sudden.
The room freezes for half a second.
Then the machines stabilize.
Not perfect.
But better.
“Hold it,” one of the nurses says quickly. “She’s responding—just hold it—”
My breath rushes out all at once.
I don’t even realize I’ve been holding it.
“She’s stabilizing,” another says.
The words don’t fully register.
Not right away.
All I see—
All I feel—
Is that she’s still here.
Still fighting.
Still not gone.
I close my eyes for one second.
Just one.
Then open them again.
Because I’m not looking away.
Not now.
Not ever.
“Stay,” I whisper again.
And this time—
it feels like she just might.