Page 38 of Jilted By Jack Frost

I hook up the fluids and tuck a blanket around her shoulders. Already, some color returns to her cheeks as the hydration kicks in.

“Promise you won’t disappear again?” Her voice is small, vulnerable in a way I’ve rarely heard from my usually confident friend.

The weight of two worlds settles on my shoulders. “I promise I’ll always come back when you need me.”

Alana’s eyelids droop as the IV fluids continue to flow. Her breathing evens out, and I adjust the blanket around her shoulders.

“When did all this start?”

“About a week after your disappeared in the blizzard.” Alana shifts in her chair. “We had a few days of calm and a chance to dig out, and then this storm came out of nowhere. First just snow, then ice coating everything. Roads froze solid. Power lines snapped.”

My stomach twists.This is because of Jack pushing me away. The prophecy wasn’t about me destroying his realm—it must about what happens when he rejects our connection.

“How manypatients?”

“Lost count after forty. Mostly hypothermia, some carbon monoxide from people trying to heat their homes with grills.” She rubs her temples. “We lost two yesterday.”

The guilt hits me like a physical blow.People are dying because of what’s happening between me and Jack.

“You need proper sleep, not just a power nap in a chair.” I check her IV. “Where’s Dr. Martinez?”

“Trapped at his house across town. Most of the staff who made it in haven’t left in days.”

Through the window, I watch more snow falling. The storm shows no signs of stopping, and I know it won’t—not until I fix things with Jack’s realm. But Alana needs me here.

I can’t abandon her again.

“I’ll take your shift.” I grab a spare set of scrubs from the scattered supplies. “Let’s find you an empty room so you can get some actual rest.”

“Vi, you just got back from god knows where-”

“And I’m the most rested person in this building.” I help her stand, steadying her when she sways. “I’ve got this. Trust me.”

Alana’s too exhausted to argue. I guide her to an empty room, making sure she’s settled before heading to the nurse’s station.

Time to see exactly what Jack’s winter has done to my town.

The numbers on the emergency board knock the breath from my lungs.. Thirty-seven active patients. Six in critical condition. Three deaths in the past week. And that’s just here.

All because of what Jack’s fucking father put in motion. And Jack wouldn’t listen.

I flipthrough the charts, my hands shaking. Most cases are hypothermia or injuries from ice-related accidents. The generator’s keeping the most critical equipment running, but we’re dangerously low on supplies.

The sound of wheels on linoleum makes me look up. Two EMTs rush past with a gurney.

“What do we have?” I fall into step beside them, scanning the patient. Elderly man, unresponsive.

“Found him in his house. No heat for three days. Core temp’s way down.”

I grab the warming blankets from the supply cart. “Get him to bay three. I’ll start the warm saline.”

My training kicks in as I work. Check vitals. Start IV. Warm fluids. Monitor cardiac rhythm. The routine is familiar, grounding.

“Violet?” One of the EMTs—Mike—stares at me. “When did you get back?”

“Just now.” I adjust the flow rate on the IV. “Heard you guys needed help.”

“Where were you? Search and rescue looked everywhere after—”

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