Chapter 144 A World Without Fear

For the first time in what felt like years, Genevieve inhaled without her chest tightening. The hospital air still smelled like bleach and iron, but with Silas alive, healing, she could finally breathe again. She sat beside his bed, legs folded under her, coat draped over the back of the chair. Her eyes never strayed from him. His body was stitched and scarred, ribs taped tight beneath the gown, but his spirit hadn’t broken. If anything, the fire in him smoldered now, slow, watchful.