The words entered her more cleanly than any blade.
Even half-conscious, even with his own blood filling his abdomen, Ethan’s first thought was Mia.
Clara nodded once.
“I intend to.”
Then she walked into surgery.
For four hours, Clara thought only about millimeters, pressure, and the fragile wall of Mia’s aorta. When the lights flickered and the heart-lung machine sounded an alarm, she kept the team moving.
At 6:43 a.m., Mia’s heart began beating on its own.
Clara watched the rhythm strengthen, then stepped back from the table. She had saved the woman who had invaded her relationship one crisis at a time. There was no triumph in it—only exhaustion.
Dr. Bell met her outside the operating room. Ethan’s spleen had been removed, and he was stable.
“Both made it,” he said. “Because you chose correctly.”
