Chapter 1056
Alistair walked in wearing a sharp black suit, though the crispness of his attire was undone by the exhaustion etched deep into his face. Around his left bicep he wore a simple black mourning band.
“You stubborn, unkillable Phoenix,” Alistair said, his voice thick with emotion. He walked to the side of the bed and gently rested his hand over hers, careful of the IV lines. “And don’t worry about Liam being here. I handled the fallout. He handed over every piece of evidence proving Bastian’s insanity. Combined with the Kensington legal team’s aggressive maneuvering, he’s currently a protected material witness. He’s restricted to the city, but they allowed him to stay by your side.”
Skye looked at the black band on his arm. “You went to the funeral.”
Alistair nodded slowly. “I did. Half the city’s underground was there. Everyone paid their respects. Except you.”
A sudden, violent surge of adrenaline flooded Skye’s system. The numbness shattered into frantic action.
“I need to get out of here,” Skye said, her voice rising in panic. She reached over with her good hand and grabbed the IV line taped to her wrist, ready to rip it free. “I need to go to the cemetery. I need to see him.”
“Skye, stop!” Liam lunged forward, grabbing her wrist. “You can’t walk. Your organs are barely functioning!”
“Let me go!” Skye thrashed weakly against his grip, her monitor blaring a rapid warning. “I didn’t get to say goodbye!”
“Skye, listen to me!” Alistair commanded, his voice sharp enough to cut through her panic. He leaned over her, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You can’t go to him. But he sent something to you.”
Skye stopped struggling. She looked from Alistair to Liam, chest heaving.
Alistair turned toward the door and gave a sharp nod.
The door opened wider.
Ethan Vance was wheeled in by a nurse.
Skye gasped. The Ethan in her dream had been vibrant, athletic, glowing with health. The Ethan sitting in the wheelchair now looked as though he had aged ten years in seven days. His face was gaunt, his eyes sunken and ringed with dark purple shadows.
“I came back the moment I heard,” Ethan said, his voice raspy and broken, answering the unasked question in her eyes. “Alistair used the emergency crypto-channel Julian established to contact me. I chartered a private jet and was back stateside within hours. The peace and quiet of Switzerland meant absolutely nothing to me anymore.”
Resting on his lap, clutched tightly in his pale hands, was a polished black wooden box.
Julian’s personal lockbox.
Ethan looked at Skye, his eyes red and swollen. He didn’t say another word. He simply lifted the box and offered it to her like a sacred relic.
Ethan wheeled himself closer to the bed. The nurse quietly slipped out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
With trembling hands, Ethan lifted the heavy black wooden box and placed it gently on Skye’s lap, over the thin hospital blanket.