Page 124 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
I remember that conversation. Remy's diplomatic but firm tone cutting through Miguel's emotional decisions.You're her brother first, which means you can't be objective. I need you to trust my calls on treatment.
Miguel had bristled, jaw tight. Then he'd looked at his sister's unconscious form and nodded once.You're right. But I'm not leaving.
They'd worked together since then. Miguel providing her medical history, Remy making the hard calls. It saved her life.
Vanessa stirs, eyelids fluttering. My breath catches.
"Nessa?" Miguel's professional mask slips as he leans forward.
Her eyes open, unfocused but aware. Real awareness, not the terrifying hallucinations that gripped her for eighteen hours straight.
"Kuya Migs?" Her voice comes out as a whisper, raw from the intubation.
Miguel's face crumbles with relief. "Yeah, sis. I'm here."
She blinks slowly, trying to focus. "Asher?"
"Right here, little bunny." The nickname slips out before I can stop it. Miguel's eyebrow raises slightly, but he doesn't comment.
"What happened? Feels like I got run over by something with terrible programming." She tries to sit up, winces, and falls back against the pillows.
Remy moves to her other side, penlight in hand. "Easy there. You've been unconscious for over a day. I need to check your pupils."
She submits to the examination, though her eyes keep drifting to me. "You look like hell."
"Charming as always."
The hint of a smile crosses her lips. "Did you sleep at all?"
"Sleep's overrated."
Miguel clears his throat. "Nessa, I need to ask you some questions about what you remember. Can you handle that?"
She nods, though the movement obviously costs her.
"The compound you were exposed to, do you remember anything about it? Color, smell, consistency?"
Her face scrunches in concentration. "It was... odorless. Like water, but thicker. And it burned when it touched my skin."
Remy and Miguel exchange glances. Remy nods at something Miguel doesn't voice.
"That confirms it," Remy murmurs. "Engineered neurotoxin. Specifically designed to target dopamine pathways."
"Which is why it hit me so hard," Vanessa adds, her voice getting stronger. "ADHD brain, dopamine dysfunction already. Perfect storm."
Miguel's jaw tightens. "Whoever did this knew your medical history."
The implications hang in the air like smoke. Someone had targeted her specifically, used her own brain chemistry against her.
My hands curl into fists. "They're going to pay for this."
"First, she needs to recover fully," Remy interjects, his diplomatic tone cutting through my rage. "Another forty-eight hours of monitoring, minimum."
Vanessa's eyes drift shut again, exhaustion pulling her under. "Sorry, guys. Still tired."
"Sleep," Miguel orders, his brother-voice overriding his doctor-voice. "We'll be here."
As her breathing evens out, Remy approaches me. "You should get some rest too. Real rest, not whatever you've been doing in that chair."
