The hospital room was too quiet. Only the steady beep of monitors and the whisper of the oxygen machine broke the silence. Camille sat beside Victoria's bed, her hand gently holding the older woman's fragile fingers. Three days had passed since the bombing. Three days of watching Victoria struggle, hour by hour.

The doctors had explained it in simple terms at first: Victoria's body, already fighting cancer, couldn't handle the additional strain of smoke inhalation and shock. Her lungs were struggling. Her heart was weakening. Each breath seemed to cost her more than the last.

Camille leaned forward, studying Victoria's pale face. The woman who had always seemed invincible now looked small against the white hospital sheets. The tubes and wires connected to her body only emphasized her fragility.

"You need to eat something," Alexander said softly from the doorway. He carried a paper bag that smelled of soup and bread.

Camille shook her head without looking up. "I'm not hungry."

Alexander moved to her side, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You haven't left this room in thirty-six hours. You need food. Rest."

"I can't leave her," Camille whispered, her voice catching. "What if she wakes up and I'm not here? What if she..."

She couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't speak the fear that had haunted her for three days.

Alexander pulled a chair beside her and sat down. "The doctors are doing everything they can."

"Is it enough?" Camille asked, her eyes never leaving Victoria's face. "The last update wasn't promising."

Alexander didn't argue. There was no point pretending things weren't serious.

Camille looked down at Victoria's hand in hers, the skin thin, blue veins visible beneath the surface. This hand had pulled her from darkness. Had shown her how to rebuild her life. Had taught her strength when she believed herself broken beyond repair.

"I can't lose her," Camille said, her voice barely audible. "Not like this. Not because of Rose."

"This isn't your fault," Alexander said firmly.

"Isn't it? Rose targeted the gala because of me. She planted those bombs to destroy what I had built." Camille's free hand curled into a fist. "If Victoria dies because of that..."

"She would tell you not to think that way."

Camille knew he was right. Victoria would never allow such self-pity. Would never permit Camille to shoulder blame that wasn't hers. But knowing that didn't ease the crushing weight in her chest.

The monitors beeped, slightly faster than before. Victoria's eyelids fluttered but didn't open.

"Should I call the nurse?" Alexander asked, already half-rising from his chair. Camille shook her head. "It happens sometimes. They said it's normal."

this. Nothing had been normal since the night of the gala. The bombing had made national news. The Phoenix Foundation's triumphant launch had become a story of terrorism and tragedy. And Victoria, who had been slowly losing her battle

door interrupted Camille's thoughts. Dr. Patel entered,

Sharma, our oncology specialist.

for bad news. Alexander's hand found her shoulder,

Sharma stepped forward, her expression thoughtful rather than grim. "We've detected something

Camille asked, her throat

explained. "Previous scans suggested spread to multiple organs, but our more detailed imaging

what this

With aggressive treatment, a combination of targeted radiation therapy and new immunotherapy protocols, we could

"How significantly?" Alexander asked.

rather than months. The smoke inhalation complications are our immediate concern, but once those are managed,

dizzy with hope, a feeling so unexpected she hardly recognized it. "Years? She

appropriate treatment and careful management,

plan, but Camille barely heard them. Years. Not months. Not weeks. Years. Time for conversations. For memories. For goodbyes that weren't rushed by the ticking

to return with more details after Victoria woke, Camille turned to Alexander, tears

her into a

but of cautious hope. She had been preparing

measure.

eyes were open, watching them with a clarity that had been absent

quickly to her side. "Can you hear

effort it took to remain alert. "I heard... the doctors," she whispered, her voice raspy from the breathing tube that had been removed just

get better treatment," Camille said,

"There's a chance,

gently. The ghost of a smile touched

sob of

Camille's, a weak grip, but stronger than yesterday.

Victoria, Camille thought. Already thinking about Kane Industries, about

continued, her eyes holding Camille's with surprising intensity. "Work like... watching you rebuild. Seeing you...

"She will,"

nodded slightly, acknowledging his vow. "The bombing," she said, her voice growing clearer

Alexander answered before Camille could. "But the FBI are viewing the footage from

eyes returned to Camille. "What will you

on Victoria, on the moment-by-moment battle for recovery. But now, with the possibility of years rather than days stretched before them, the question of

word, just understanding. "Yes," Camille acknowledged. "But I also want to move forward. To rebuild

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