Page 55 of Shadows of Recovery

He left the Blackwell Institute and headed back to the hospital, feeling less anxious.

* * *

Brad Killian walkedinto Sophie's ICU room. He found Isobel sitting beside her sister, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She held Sophie's hand, her face filled with grief and exhaustion.

Brad approached quietly, his presence a gentle intrusion. He looked at Sophie, her face serene despite the bandages and tubes, then he turned to Isobel with deep affection. "How is she doing?"

Isobel looked up, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "She's stable, for now. The doctors say we just have to wait and see."

Brad nodded, his heart aching for both of them. "And how are you holding up, Belle?"

She shook her head, a single tear slipping down her cheek. "I'm trying, but it's so hard. Seeing her like this... knowing what she went through... it's unbearable. I should have told you what I knew about Damon Whitlock. But I?—"

“No, you told me what you legally could. I waited too long to go in.” Brad reached out and gently placed a hand on hers. "I know it's hard. But Sophie is strong, and so are you."

“I guess there’s enough guilt to go around.” Isobel managed a weak smile, her gratitude evident. "Thank you."

Taking a deep breath, Brad sat down beside her, his expression turning serious. "I need your help with something, Belle. We're working on profiling Damon Whitlock, and I think you can provide some valuable insight."

Isobel's brow furrowed in confusion. "But don't you have enough evidence to put him away? He did this to Sophie."

Brad sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "The problem is, no one saw him attack Sophie directly. We need her to identify him. We have witnesses to what his men did and what they stole, but to put Damon away, we need more. We need to understand him, to build a stronger case. The tribal council requires more to help us put him away."

Isobel's eyes widened in shock. "You mean, even with all this, he might not be convicted?"

"Without a direct eyewitness account of his actions against Sophie, it's going to be tough," Brad admitted, his frustration evident. "Damon is clever. He knows how to cover his tracks. The DNA evidence was weak to nonexistent. He poured chlorohexidine on and inside her.

Isobel clenched her jaw, anger flashing in her eyes. "What do you need from me, Brad?"

Brad hesitated for a moment, knowing what he was about to ask. "I need you to think back on any interactions Sophie might have had with Damon. Anything she might have mentioned, no matter how small. We need to build a profile that shows his obsession, his motives."

Isobel took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Okay. I'll do whatever it takes to help. Sophie deserves justice."

“We'll get him, I promise. We'll follow up on any leads and make sure Damon Whitlock pays for what he did."

Isobel nodded, her resolve unwavering. "Just promise me one thing, Brad."

"Anything," he replied.

"Promise me you won't rest until he's behind bars," she said, her voice steady but filled with emotion.

Brad looked her in the eye, his expression fierce. "I promise, Belle. We won't rest until justice is served."

He squeezed Sophie's hand, whispering, "We'll get him. I promise you that."

Twenty-One

The ICU room was bathed in the early morning sunlight filtering through the blinds, casting soft patterns on the floor. Tristan stood by Sophie’s bedside, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and anxiety. It had been three long weeks since the trauma, weeks of uncertainty and waiting. In the last week, her breathing leveled off, and they removed the breathing tube.

Her arms and legs flailed, and she moaned. But now, as he watched her eyelids flutter and her fingers twitch, he knew she was finally waking up.

“Sophie?” Tristan’s voice was gentle, filled with cautious optimism. He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers. “Sophie, can you hear me?”

Her eyelids slowly lifted, revealing hazel eyes that blinked in confusion. She looked around the room, her gaze finally settling on him. “Tris…tan?” Her voice was weak, but it was enough to send a wave of relief through him.

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s me.” A smile broke across his face. “You’re safe, Sophie. You’re in the ICU at Waverly Junction Community Hospital.”

Sophie frowned, her brow furrowing. “I... I remember the hospital. Men with guns...” She shook her head slightly. “An explosion.” The heart monitor alarmed, beeping rapidly.

---