Marvis POV
She stirred. Just twitched a soft movement of her fingers beneath the blanket.
I should've left already. But I didn't.
I stood at the edge of her hospital bed, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. She didn't know I was here. Not yet. And something told me that when she did, the world shift again. A quiet knock on the door. I moved quickly to the corner, pressing myself into the shadows as the nurse entered. She checked the IV drip, muttering something under her breath about the dosage. Her eyes never drifted to where I stood. People rarely see what they're not looking for. Melody groaned softly. Her eyelids fluttering.
The nurse leaned closer. "Melody, can you hear me?"
Her lips parted, dry and cracked "Water..." she whispered.
The nurse poured a glass and helped her sip. I didn't move. I watched. An old habit watch before striking. Melody opened her eyes fully. Confused but focused.
"Where...?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
"You're Maryland Hospital" the nurse said gently " You hit your head during the campus incident on campus but you are okay."
But her eyes said otherwise. Melody wasn't the kind of woman who felt safe easily. Not with people like us watching.
The nurse fussed a bit more, then stepped out with a promise to return. The door clicked shut. Melody's gaze wandered the room, slow and cautious. She didn't see me. Good. I stayed still, barely breathing.
The nurse entered moments later with a clipboard and cup of water.
"Don't move too much you've a concussion. But you'll be okay." Melody blinked slowly
"How long?" she whispered.
"Four days long. You've been in and out," the nurse replied softly "Try not to push it."
As the nurse helped her sip water and adjusted the IV, I watched from the corner. She shouldn't have been caught in that mess. The shooting was meant to send a message to someone else. But Melody Quinn was tangled in something much darker. Not just because she survived but because she saw him.
The tattoo.
That cursed symbol linking the past to the present.
After the nurse left, Melody lay still. She didn't cry. She didn't panic. Her fingers clutched the sheets, her jaw locked with thought. That told me everything I needed to know. I stepped forward silently and placed a sealed brown envelope on her bedside table.
The same one she would've received had she returned to my office.
Then I turned to leave, but paused at the door.
She would wake again soon, stronger, angry, and filled with questions.
She'd want answers. And she'd come looking for me.
I wasn't sure if I wanted her to. But it was already too late.