Madison Pierce couldn't get the image out of her head.
Kai lying in that hospital bed, tubes down his throat, machines beeping frantically as his vitals crashed. The way his skin had looked gray under the harsh fluorescent lights. The way he'd gripped her hand like he was drowning and she was the only thing keeping him afloat.
The doctors said he was fine now. Completely healed, no permanent damage, nothing to explain what had happened to him in the first place.
But Madison knew better. She'd seen the fear in his eyes before they'd sedated him. She'd heard him whisper a name that wasn't hers.
Aria.
Now she sat in the university library at two in the morning, surrounded by medical textbooks and empty coffee cups, trying to find an answer that made sense. Her laptop screen glowed in the dim light, displaying search results that only confused her more.
"Psychosomatic respiratory failure." "Stress-induced throat trauma." "Conversion disorders and physical symptoms."
