The white walls of the hospital felt strangely calm, a world apart from the chaos they had just come from.
Steve lay in bed, surrounded by machines and quiet beeping. His frame was big as ever, but the bandages on his chest, the sling on his arm, and the bruises on his face made him look more human than usual.
Even so, his eyes still carried that fire.
Maya sat nearby, dressed in a dark jacket. She looked a little better than before—less drained, more composed. The pain was still there in her eyes, but now it was mixed with resolve.
Luciano stood against the wall with his arms crossed. He looked relaxed, but his eyes were sharp and always watching.
"How's Jordan?" Steve asked, voice calm but heavy. "He's okay, right?"
Maya looked toward the door, like she was hoping someone would walk in.
"He's still in a coma," she said softly. "Lost a lot of blood. The doctors say it's a miracle he even survived."
