For the first time in days everything feels normal.

No kidnappings,no guns, no blood…..Just my family.

At one point I notice Lucas disappear.

Again.

Then Aria disappears five minutes later and I immediately look at Caleb.

He looks at me, then we both look toward the door and burst out laughing.

Noah notices.

“What?”

I point toward the hallway

“Oh.”

His eyes widen.

“Oh.”

Then Lucas reappears twenty minutes later looking entirely too pleased with himself.

I immediately point.

“There he is.”

Lucas groans.

“No.”

“There who is?” Noah asks.

“The man who definitely wasn’t sneaking off to spend time with Aria.”

Aria nearly chokes on her drink. Lucas looks like he wants to throw himself out the hospital window…..he’s shy when it gets to stuff like this.

And honestly? Watching him suffer might be my favorite part of recovery.

By evening everyone slowly starts leaving.

One by one…..I get hugs and Promises to visit tomorrow, Warnings from Noah to stay in bed, more warnings from Noah to stay in bed.

Then additional warnings from Noah to stay in bed.

Finally the room grows quiet with Just me and Zane.

Again.

I look over at him to find he’s already watching me and a small smile touches my lips.

“What?”

His expression softens.

“Nothing Just…”

His hand reaches for mine and holds it,

Liek he needs to, like he always will.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

The words come out quietly, his fingers tighten around mine.

“So am I, love.”

For the first time since everything happened…

I believe things are going to be okay.

Maybe not perfect or easy.

But okay and right now…That’s enough.

The room is quieter nw, the kind of quiet that only comes after a storm has finally passed and everyone’s too exhausted to speak.

Zane is still sitting beside me, still holding my hand. Like if he lets go, something might happen again.

I don’t blame him.

Honestly, I don’t think either of us trusts silence anymore.

I shift slightly on the bed and immediately regret it when a dull ache pulls through my side.

Zane notices instantly.

“Don’t move too much,” he says.

“I’m literally just breathing,” I reply.

“That’s enough movement for me.”

I stare at him.

“You’re insane.”

“You’re alive,” he says simply.

And just like that, I stop arguing because I don’t have a counter for that.

A moment passes; then another.

His thumb moves slowly over my knuckles, absentminded but grounding.

I swallow slightly.

“Zane…”

His eyes lift immediately and I take a breath.

“Thomas.”

The change in him is instant, not anger necessarily …..Something colder.

He exhales slowly, like he’s been expecting the question since the moment I woke up.

“He’s locked up,” he says.

My brows knit.

“Locked up where?”

His jaw tightens slightly.

“A secure holding cell, under the estate.”

I blink.

“Under the estate?”

“Yes.”

I stare at him for a moment.

Only Zane would casually say something like that, like it’s normal like underground imprisonment is just part of everyday life.

I should be disturbed.

I am…a little.

But mostly I’m just tired.

“So he’s alive,” I say quietly.

“Yes.”

I look down at my hands, processing that.

Thomas.

The man who caused all of this, the man who nearly took everything from me, the man who took one of my babies before I even got the chance to meet them.

Alive.

Still breathing somewhere beneath our house, I don’t know what I feel about that.

Zane watches me carefully.

“Elaine.”

I look up.

“He won’t stay there for long.”

My chest tightens slightly.

“What does that mean?”

Silence and that’s never a good sign with him.

He exhales again, slower this time.

“It means I’m going to deal with him.”

I frown.

“Deal with him how?”

His grip on my hand tightens slightl firmly.

“Permanently.”

I go still.

Understanding hits me a second later.

“Oh.”

He doesn’t deny it, doesn’t soften it or try to wrap it in pretty words.

Just honesty.

My throat feels tight.

“You mean…”

“Yes.”

I stare at him.

“You’re going to kill him.”

Another pause.

Then:

“I don’t want him coming back from this,” he says quietly. “I don’t want him plotting. I don’t want him near you. Near anyone I care about.”

His voice lowers slightly.

“This ends with me deciding he never gets another chance to hurt you or anyone I love again.”

I sit there for a moment, listening to my own heartbeat in my ears. Strangely, I don’t feel shocked.

I should but I don’t. Maybe because I already knew this world wasn’t kind enough for neat endings, maybe because Thomas crossed too many lines to ever come back from them.

I swallow.

“Zane.”

He looks at me, that steady gaze again waiting. Always waiting for me to tell him to stop, to be better, to choose differently.

I exhale slowly.

“How do I feel about that?”

His eyes don’t move.

I think about Thomas, about everything.

The kidnapping, the lies, Aria.

The moment I thought I was going to die and then my baby.

The one we lost….a pain settles in my chest at that thought.

“I feel…” I start.

Then pause, searching for the right words.

“I feel sad.”

Zane’s expression doesn’t change so I continue.

“I feel sad for him.”

A flicker crosses his face.

“But that’s it.”

Silence again.

“He took my baby,” I say quietly.

“He took something I didn’t even get to hold.”

I swallow.

“And I know he’s hurt. I know he’s broken. I know all of that.”

My eyes lift to Zane.

“But that doesn’t change what he did.”

Zane’s grip on my hand tightens slightly again.

I think he’s relieved, i think he expected me to scream, to cry or beg for mercy.

But I’m too tired for that kind of emotion.

“He doesn’t get to hurt anyone else,” I say quietly.

Zane nods once, understandi that’s t’s all I needed from him.

Another silence settles between us, less heavy this time as I lean back slightly against the pillows.

Exhaustion creeping in again.

Zane immediately adjusts the blanket like I’m made of glass.

I roll my eyes.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like I’ll break if I blink too hard.”

He doesn’t even deny it. Instead, he just keeps looking at me, like he’s memorizing the fact that I’m still here.

After a moment, I speak again.

“Are you going to be okay with it?”

He looks at me.

“What?”

“Doing it,” I say softly.

“Killing him.”

That word hangs in the air.

He doesn’t answer immediately, he looks like he’s choosing honesty over control.

“I don’t know,” he says finally.

Then:

“But I know I can’t risk him coming back into our life.”

I nod slightly.

That I understand, more than anything.

My fingers tighten around his.

“Then I’m here,” I say quietly.

His eyes flick to mine.

“I’m here,” I repeat.

A small pause.

Then his hand squeezes mine back harder this time. Like he needed to hear that more than he wanted to admit.

The room falls quiet again but this time it doesn’t feel heavy. Jt just feels like two people trying to figure out how to live after everything they’ve lost.

And somehow…Still choosing to stay.