The ambulance jerked to a stop at the emergency entrance. Doors flew open—lights, voices, rushing footsteps spilling out into the cold.
"On three—one, two, three!"
They lifted the stretcher in unison, wheeling it up the ramp.
Atlas climbed out behind them, the moving world frozen around him. He heard nothing—not the voices, not the cold. Just Noah's half-closed eyes.
The automatic glass doors slid open as they rushed the stretcher through—Emergency Department, Trauma/Resuscitation. Inside: harsh white lights, monitor beeps, metal trays clattering. Everything ready.
"Core temp 31. Brady 42. Let's move!"
"Warm IV, get it up!"
The door hissed shut.
Atlas couldn't enter. Wasn't allowed.
He stood at the glass partition. His palms were ice, shoulders locked rigid. Something heavy sat on his chest—he realized he'd forgotten to breathe.
Inside, everyone moved fast, precise.
From outside, everything blurred.
A doctor bent over Noah's head, monitor light cutting across her face.
A nurse working the IV.
Someone opening the thermal cocoon.
Another connecting the warming device.
Atlas's ears rang.
His eyes never blinked, fixed on the stretcher.
Not even aware of his own breathing.
His lips parted but no sound came.
His hand found the glass without thinking—cold glass.
Noah was ice inside.
Just thin glass between them but to Atlas it might as well have been miles.
A nurse came out, spoke rapidly into her radio, but the words tangled in Atlas's ears.
All he heard was his own mind:
Not too late. Not too late. Please...
His shoulders trembled but his face stayed stone. If he broke now—he refused to finish the thought.
The trauma room door opened again.
A staff member looked directly at Atlas:
"You need to move to the waiting area, sir. The doctor will speak with you soon."
Atlas took a step back but couldn't pull his eyes from Noah.
Like if he looked away, Noah's breathing would stop entirely.
The door closed.
The glass went dark.
Atlas stood alone.
Silent, still, frozen.
---
Atlas walked to the waiting area with heavy steps. Leaned against the wall, eyes locked on nothing. Thoughts fragmenting.
Alice and Sienna arrived fast.
Alice grabbed Atlas's arm without stopping, shook him hard.
"Atlas. Look at me."
Atlas slowly raised his head. Eyes empty.
Alice saw the pallor in his face.
"Come on. Bathroom."
"I need to wait here..." Atlas said, voice hoarse and broken.
Alice turned to Sienna:
"Stay here. If the doctor comes, let me know."
Then hooked her arm through Atlas's and pulled.
---
BATHROOM
Alice turned on the hot water, washed Atlas's face.
Atlas stared at the mirror but didn't seem to recognize his own reflection.
Alice wet his hair.
"Deep breath."
Atlas obeyed mechanically.
Alice's voice harder now:
"Atlas, snap out of it. He's going to be fine."
Then cold water, splashing his face again. Atlas's breathing steadied slightly.
His lips trembled for a moment.
"Was I too late?"
Alice immediately grabbed his arm.
"Don't blame yourself. You need to be strong right now."
Pulled him into a hug.
Then held his face with both hands, looked into his eyes.
"You hearing me?"
Atlas blinked, focused slightly.
"When did you get here?" Like he couldn't remember the last few minutes.
Alice took a deep breath.
"Finally... you're back."
Atlas suddenly looked around—panic returning.
"Noah... where—"
Alice tried to stay calm.
"They're taking care of him. We wait for the doctor now."
Atlas gripped the sink counter, head dropping forward. His breathing shaky.
Alice called Sienna:
"Get a nurse. We're in the bathroom."
---
Two nurses entered.
"Let's get him to a chair. Taking him to emergency."
They took Atlas's arms, sat him in a wheelchair, wheeled him to the emergency treatment area.
The nurses did vital assessments: pulse, blood pressure, oxygen saturation.
Atlas seemed to hear nothing; eyes staring at empty space.
"High acute stress response... might be in shock," one nurse said to the other.
"Get the doctor immediately."
Atlas was taken to a quiet area, blood pressure cuff on his arm, monitor connected.
Alice and Sienna waited outside.
After a while, a doctor came out.
Serious but not panicked.
Alice immediately stood.
"How is he?"
The doctor spoke calm and collected:
"No physical problems. Hyperventilation and acute stress response. Consciousness confusion and time perception distortion are normal in these situations."
"We'll let him rest. Gave him a mild sedative. He'll come around."
"Everything's normal. No traumatic injury."
Sienna took a deep breath.
Alice quietly said "Thank you."
The doctor nodded and went back inside.
Alice and Sienna looked at each other—tired, worried, but slightly relieved.
---
Alice's phone buzzed. She looked at the screen and froze:
Helen Wellin.
Alice answered immediately.
Helen: "I can't reach Noah or Atlas."
Slight panic in her voice but controlled.
Alice steadied her breathing.
Alice: "We're at the hospital."
Silence. Alice could hear Helen's breathing.
Helen: "What happened?"
Alice's throat tightened. So much to say, but only the necessary:
Alice: "Noah's in intensive care. Atlas is... sedated."
Silence expanded on the other end. A breath caught, then stopped completely.
Helen: "...Where?"
Alice gave the hospital name.
Helen: "I'm coming."
The call ended.
Alice held the phone a moment. Then rested her head on Sienna's shoulder. Sienna wrapped an arm around Alice's waist, an anchoring weight.
They listened to footsteps passing in the corridor, metal clattering of wheeled stretchers for a long moment.
Alice's phone rang again. Alice closed her eyes.
"I can't talk," she whispered and handed the phone to Sienna.
Alice: "Text Evelyn. Tell her Atlas is in the hospital, send the address."
Sienna nodded and typed. Handed the phone back.
Alice: "Keep it. Text my assistant too—cancel everything today."
Sienna nodded again.
They stood side by side for a while. Alice finally whispered:
"This is... too much even for me."
Sienna held her hand, fingers interlacing tightly.
Then placed a small, steady kiss on Alice's forehead—not panic, but calming.
---
HOURS LATER
Helen came down the corridor with fast but controlled steps. Her assistant beside her.
A coldness on her face carrying all the weight of her world.
Helen took a breath before speaking, suppressed the tremor in her voice.
"What's happening?"
Not panic in her tone, but control pulled over panic.
Alice raised her head. Hardness in her voice, exhaustion mixed with anger on her face:
"Noah had hypothermia. He's in intensive care now. We don't know details."
The muscle in Helen's jaw ticked once. Her eyelids blinked slowly.
Before her expression could collapse completely, she collected herself.
Sat silently in the opposite chair. Fixed her hands on her knees.
Helen: "...Atlas?"
Alice didn't look away.
"Couldn't handle what happened. Being sedated."
Helen looked down for a moment. Eyes fixed on a point—fighting not to let any emotion show on her face.
Then stood.
"I'll talk to the doctors."
Signaled her assistant. They walked together toward the end of the corridor.
As their voices faded, Alice finally exhaled.
---
Sienna returned with coffee and water in her hands. Holding the cardboard cups by their plastic lids.
"Here," she said quietly.
Alice looked at the cup, not at the coffee but at the cardboard itself.
"I hate these cardboard things," she said in a low voice.
Sienna placed her other hand over Alice's. Rubbed gently with her thumb, then leaned in and left a brief kiss in her hair.
Two silhouettes appeared at the end of the corridor. Charles and Evelyn.
As they approached, their suits, controlled walk, tense but flat expressions became clear.
"Alice," Charles said.
Evelyn gave a soft "Hi," and sat in the opposite chair. Charles remained standing, one hand lightly resting on the chair back. His eyes moved between them.
Alice looked at them with tired, reddened eyes.
Charles asked directly:
"What's going on?"
Alice repeated what she'd told Helen, this time shorter, sharper sentences.
Noah. Intensive care. Atlas. Sedation.
Evelyn's eyes filled for a moment; she looked down and slightly tightened her jaw, forcing herself together. Charles put his hand on her shoulder, fingers pressing lightly, I'm here.
"Can we see Atlas?" he asked.
Sienna interjected:
"He's still sedated. Nurses are monitoring."
Helen returned to them then. All three automatically straightened; Evelyn shifted to the empty chair beside her, Helen sat.
Helen took a deep breath, trying to control the muscles in her face:
"Noah's doctor said they're raising his body temperature in a controlled way. Heart's weak but stable. First eight hours are critical. They'll update us again."
She paused. Swallowed slightly choosing the sentence about Atlas:
"Atlas is physically fine. But... severe shock response. His doctor thinks it's safer to keep him sedated a while longer."
Alice raised her head, about to speak. Met Helen's eyes. Seeing the fine redness in the whites of her eyes, slight swelling under the lower lid, she stayed quiet. Shifted her gaze to Charles.
Charles spoke short, clear:
"Send me the number of whoever ran the operation."
Alice reflexively:
"I spoke with them. They'll send me camera footage and reports."
"Give it anyway," Charles said. No room for argument in his tone.
Alice looked at Sienna.
"Sienna."
Sienna nodded, pulled up the number on her phone and handed it to Charles. He took it, checked, pocketed it.
Evelyn stood.
"I'll check on Atlas," she said simply.
Walked down the corridor toward Atlas's room. When she returned after a while, the expression on her face had softened by a small parenthesis.
"Still sleeping," she said. "Nurse just checked. Vitals are stable."
Helen glanced at her briefly, nodded slightly. Like thanks, like approval.
Alice turned her eyes to Charles:
"Talk to Atlas's assistant. Cancel everything today and tomorrow."
Charles confirmed with a small head movement.
"I'll be outside," he said. "Let me know if there's news."
He walked away down the corridor, his stride unbroken even as he pulled out his phone.
---
Helen returned to her phone, typed something, deleted and retyped, finally spoke as if decided:
"We need to keep this from Thomas and Richard... for now."
Alice shifted her gaze from Helen to Evelyn.
"If someone hasn't already told them," she said in a flat voice, "only then can you hide it."
Evelyn tilted her head slightly, looking down, said quietly:
"Richard knows everything."
Alice's expression hardened; she looked at Evelyn for a moment, then turned her jaw away and focused on any point on the wall. No comment.
Everyone fell silent for a while. Only hands working: messages written, emails checked, meetings canceled. The silence broken by phone vibrations and a distant monitor beep.
Helen, not looking up from her screen:
"Mother wants to come. But... I told her there's no need."
Alice laughed slightly; not finding it funny, but a short, dry sound from the finest nerve:
"If Eleanor comes too... soon Richard will come. Complete cast."
The corner of Evelyn's lips curved barely perceptibly. Her eyes still moist but breathing deeper.
"Would make a great family photo," she said, low voice.
Sienna hadn't let go of Alice's hand. Her thumb moving in the same rhythm over Alice's hand; from outside a small gesture, from inside the only anchor point.
---
Hours passed, hospital lights shifted to evening tones. Alice's assistant approached with calm but quick steps, handed Sienna the bag with clothes and items brought for Atlas.
"Thank you," Sienna said, voice soft.
The others had already scattered to different corners of the hospital—one chasing doctors, one on the phone, one at the window.
Charles and Evelyn appeared from the corridor. Steps controlled but faces tired. Charles stood before them.
"Get something to eat," he said, tone brooking no argument. "We're here."
Sienna looked first at Charles, then at Alice.
"Let's go," she said quietly.
Alice nodded slightly, took Sienna's arm. Standing, she seemed to sway for a moment; Sienna supported her lightly at the waist.
"Atlas's things are in the bag," Alice said, pointing to it for Evelyn.
Evelyn confirmed with a brief look, reached for the bag.
As they walked slowly away down the corridor, Evelyn tilted her head slightly toward Charles.
"Richard must never know about this operation," she said, voice low but clear.
Charles tightened his jaw, looked down briefly.
"If he's not still having Atlas followed..." he started, couldn't finish. The possibility hung in the air, neither wanted to think further.
Helen appeared after a while; sat silently beside them. Shoulders straight but breathing like she couldn't quite fill her lungs, speaking on half-breaths:
"Thomas found out Noah ran."
Brief pause.
"They're looking for Noah."
Charles and Evelyn met eyes; in the look between them was cursing, planning, helplessness.
"We'll need to hide Noah for a while," Charles said, more to himself.
Helen nodded slightly.
"I'll send him to another country if necessary," she said, more decision than emotion in her voice. Not an offer but a possibility.
Evelyn sighed.
"First let them both recover," she said. "Then we decide what to do."
Charles turned to Helen.
"Thomas will suspect. We'll handle Noah," he said. The meaning of "we" clear: everyone outside Richard and Thomas.
Helen looked into Charles's eyes.
"Only Noah matters right now," she said with closed-to-discussion clarity.
---
Alice and Sienna returned after a while; Alice's hair fallen across her face, dark circles more pronounced.
"Any news?" Alice asked, voice hoarse.
"No," Charles said, shaking his head slightly.
Alice lowered her head, then raised it again.
"I'll talk to Atlas's doctor. He's been asleep over eight hours," she said.
"I'm coming," Evelyn said and stood.
They walked together to the doctor's door. When they returned a few minutes later, Evelyn's face showed tiny, almost invisible relief.
"They'll wake him soon," she said.
Charles looked at Alice.
"Let him see you first," he said calm but clear.
Alice nodded with a minimal movement and walked with Sienna toward Atlas's room. Paused briefly at the door; device sounds came faintly from inside. The doctor and nurse emerged a few minutes later.
The doctor turned to Alice:
"You can go in, he's awake," she said. "He can be discharged tomorrow after final tests."
Alice and Sienna thanked her; doctor and nurse passed by and walked away.
When they entered the room, Atlas had moved to a half-sitting position in bed; one hand still connected to the IV drip he was watching. Eyes tired, gaze not quite focused yet.
Alice approached the bed, tried to keep her voice as normal as possible.
"How are you?"
Atlas first pulled his gaze from the IV bag to look at her; still a foggy consciousness in his eyes. Instead of answering, his first question came automatically:
"How's Noah?"
"Doctors are taking care of him," Alice said, reflexively answering about Noah first. Then without dropping her gaze added:
"How are you?"
Atlas moved to stand; slid toward the edge of the bed. Realizing his head was spinning, he brought his hand to his head, fingers threading through his hair.
"Feel dizzy," he said, like someone whose breath won't quite fill.
Alice immediately put her hand on his shoulder, stopped him with clear pressure without pushing.
"Still in intensive care," she said. "You can't see him now."
Atlas tried to take a deep breath, his chest rose but the breath didn't settle; he looked down. The muscles in his jaw tightened, fingers gripping the sheet.
Sienna, a step back, silently watched them both. For several seconds only the steady sound of machines in the room.