HOSPITAL EMERGENCY

HOSPITAL EMERGENCY
Michelle's Pov

I sat in the waiting room with Hope and James in my arms. They had finally stopped crying and fallen asleep. They were wrapped in hospital blankets wearing only their diapers because their clothes were still back at the motel.

A police officer came to talk to me. He asked what happened and I told him everything. About Victor Kane. About Dmitri and the other men. About the fight at the motel.

"We'll send units to check it out," the officer said. "Can you describe the men who attacked you?"

I described Dmitri and his snake tattoo. Described the black SUV. Told him everything I could remember.

"And your husband is in surgery now?" the officer asked.

"Yes," I said. My voice cracked. "He was stabbed. There was so much blood."

"The doctors here are very good," the officer said. "He's in the best hands."

But that did not make me feel better. Hayden could still die. After everything we survived he could die in a hospital because Victor Kane sent men to kill us.

The officer left and I was alone again. Just me and the sleeping twins and the ticking clock on the wall.

An hour passed. Then two. Nobody came to tell me anything about Hayden. I did not know if that was good or bad.

Clara and Ted showed up around midnight. The hospital must have called them using my emergency contacts.

“Michelle,” Clara said and hugged me. “Oh my god. Are you okay? Are the twins okay?”

Her arms wrapped around me so tightly I almost collapsed into her. For a second I couldn’t answer. My body was still running on adrenaline, my ears ringing, hands shaking from everything that had just happened.

“They’re okay,” I managed, pulling back enough to look at her. “They’re scared, but they’re okay.”

Behind her, Hope clung to Ted’s leg while James hiccupped through fading sobs, wrapped in a blanket too big for him. Seeing them upright, breathing, alive—it hit me all at once.

Clara cupped my face. “You’re shaking.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I just… I need a minute.”

"We're fine," I said. "But Hayden. He was stabbed. He's been in surgery for three hours."

"He's going to be okay," Ted said. But he did not sound sure.

Clara took James from my arms so I could rest. My whole body hurt. My neck was bruised from where Dmitri choked me. My ankle was swollen from jumping out the window. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was Hayden.

"What if he doesn't make it?" I whispered. "What if I lose him?"

"Don't think like that," Clara said. "Hayden is strong. He's a fighter."

"He's lost so much blood," I said. "You should have seen it Clara. The car seat was soaked. His whole side was covered."

Clara did not say anything. She just held James and let me talk.

"I can't do this without him," I said. "I can't raise the twins alone. I can't keep fighting Victor Kane alone. I need him."

"He knows that," Ted said. "That's why he's going to pull through. He has too much to live for."

Another hour passed. The twins woke up hungry and crying. A nurse brought me formula and bottles. I fed them in the waiting room while Clara and Ted watched.

"You should eat something too," Ted said. "When's the last time you had food?"

I could not remember. Breakfast maybe? That felt like days ago.

Ted went to the cafeteria and brought back sandwiches and coffee. I forced myself to eat even though I felt sick. I needed to stay strong for the twins.

Finally at four in the morning a doctor came out. He was wearing scrubs covered in blood. Hayden's blood.

"Mrs. Winter?" he asked.

"Yes," I stood up fast. "Is he okay? Is my husband okay?"

“Your husband is out of surgery,” the doctor said. “The knife wound was deep. It punctured his liver and caused significant internal bleeding. We had to remove part of the damaged liver and repair several blood vessels.”

The hallway seemed to tilt for a second, the fluorescent lights suddenly too bright. “Is he—” My voice failed me. I swallowed and tried again. “Is he going to be okay?”

The doctor’s expression was calm but serious. “He’s stable right now. The next twenty-four hours are critical. There’s a risk of infection and complications, but he made it through the procedure.”

Made it through.

The words echoed in my chest. Not safe. Not recovered. But alive.

I pressed a trembling hand to my mouth, relief and fear crashing together. “Can I see him?” I asked, already bracing myself for what he might look like.

"But he's alive?" I asked.

"Yes," the doctor said. "He's alive. But the next twenty four hours are critical. He lost a lot of blood. His body is in shock. We're monitoring him closely in the ICU."

"Can I see him?" I asked.

"Soon," the doctor said. "We need to get him stabilized first. A nurse will come get you when he's ready for visitors."

"Will he be okay?" I asked. "Long term?"

"If he makes it through the next day his chances are good," the doctor said. "The liver can regenerate. With time and proper care he should make a full recovery."

"Thank you," I said. Tears were running down my face. "Thank you so much."

The doctor left and I collapsed into a chair. He was alive. Hayden was alive. That was all that mattered right now.

The tension that had been holding me upright for hours finally gave way. My hands covered my face as a shaky breath escaped me—half sob, half prayer. The sterile hospital hallway buzzed around me, nurses moving, monitors beeping somewhere behind closed doors, life continuing as if mine hadn’t just split in two.

Alive… The word repeated in my mind like a lifeline. Not safe. Not healed. Not out of danger completely. But alive…

And for now, that was enough to keep me breathing too.

"See?" Clara said. "I told you he would make it."

"He's not out of danger yet," I said. "The next twenty four hours are critical."

"Then we'll wait," Ted said. "We'll stay here with you as long as it takes."

The nurse came to get me two hours later. She said Hayden was stable enough for a short visit. She warned me that he looked bad. That all the tubes and machines might be scary.

She was right. Walking into that ICU room and seeing Hayden like that almost broke me.

He was so pale. Almost gray. There were tubes in his nose and mouth. Wires connected to his chest. An IV in each arm. Machines beeping and showing numbers I did not understand.

For a moment I just stood there, afraid to move closer, as if stepping too hard might disturb the fragile balance keeping him alive. His chest rose and fell in shallow, mechanical rhythm, helped by machines that hissed softly with each breath. The steady beeping filled the room, relentless and indifferent.

I reached for his hand carefully, mindful of the lines taped to his skin. It felt warm, but limp. Too still.

“You’re still here,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me.”

"Oh Hayden," I whispered. I took his hand carefully. It was cold.

A nurse was checking one of the machines. "He's sedated right now," she said. "But you can talk to him. Some patients can hear even when they're unconscious."

I sat in the chair next to his bed and held his hand. "Hey. It's me. Michelle. You're going to be okay. The doctor said you're going to be okay."

No response. Just the sound of machines.

"The twins are fine," I continued. "They're with Clara and Ted. They're safe. We're all safe because of you. You saved us Hayden. Again."

Still nothing.

"You have to wake up," I said. My voice broke. "You have to come back to us. Hope and James need their dad. I need my husband. Please Hayden. Please fight."

I sat there holding his hand and talking to him for an hour. Telling him about the twins. About how brave he was. About how much I loved him.

Then the nurse said I had to leave. That Hayden needed rest and I needed rest too.

"I'll be back," I promised Hayden. "Every few hours I'll come check on you. Don't give up okay? Don't you dare give up."

I kissed his forehead and left.