The faint hum of distant voices echoed in Jade’s ears as she opened her eyes briefly, only to close them again. The world around her was a blur of noise and light, punctuated by cries of panic and the acrid smell of smoke. She tried to move, but her body felt heavy, unresponsive. Darkness soon swallowed her, and everything faded away.
When Jade finally woke, the first thing she noticed was the sterile smell of the hospital room. The bright overhead light made her wince, and she groaned softly, her throat dry and scratchy. As her vision cleared, she became aware of three familiar figures standing around her bed.
“Jade,” Milan’s voice was the first to reach her, soft but filled with relief. His icy-blue eyes scanned her face, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead. “You’re awake.”
Thiago was next to her, his usual playful demeanor replaced with raw emotion. “You scared the hell out of us,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “Don’t ever do that again.”
Enzo stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His expression was calm, but his dark eyes betrayed the storm of emotions swirling within him. “We thought we’d lost you,” he said quietly.
Jade blinked, her mind struggling to catch up. “What… happened?” she croaked, her voice hoarse.
“There was an explosion,” Milan explained, his tone steady but laced with anger. “At the wedding. Vivienne… she orchestrated it.”
The memories flooded back in fragments—the ceremony, the explosion, the screams. Jade’s chest tightened, and she tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in her side made her gasp.
“Don’t move,” Thiago said quickly, his hands gently guiding her back down. “You’ve got a few bruised ribs and some minor cuts, but nothing serious.”
“The doctors said you’ll be fine,” Milan added, his voice soothing. “You just need to rest.”
Jade nodded slowly, her head still spinning. “How long was I out?”
“A day,” Enzo replied. “They kept you sedated to manage the pain.”
Jade’s hand instinctively went to her side, feeling the bandages beneath her hospital gown. “It could’ve been worse,” she murmured, trying to process everything. “We’re lucky.”
The room fell silent at her words, and a heavy tension settled in the air. She looked at the three men, noticing the way their expressions shifted—concern morphing into something deeper, something darker.
“What is it?” Jade asked, her voice trembling. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Milan hesitated, his jaw tightening. He exchanged a glance with Enzo and Thiago before finally speaking. “Jade… there’s something you need to know.”
Her heart sank, dread pooling in her stomach. “What?”
“It’s about Mia,” Thiago said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “She… she didn’t make it.”
Jade froze, the words hitting her like a freight train. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “That’s not true. She was fine. She was right there—”
“She was close to the blast,” Enzo said, his tone grave. “The medics tried, but… they couldn’t save her.”
“No,” Jade said again, her voice breaking. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she turned to Milan, as if hoping he would tell her it was all a mistake.
Milan’s face was a mask of pain, his icy-blue eyes filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry, Jade,” he said softly. “Mia’s gone.”