As the stretcher enters the elevator, it jolts slightly. “Watch it,” Lance snaps at the nurses. Terrified he’ll miss something, he doesn’t look away from Andrea’s face. He tightly grips the corner of the stretcher and follows her to a luxury ICU room.
The nurses efficiently change the IV bag and attach Andrea to a heart monitor. They nod politely at Lance and file out of the room, but he barely notices them. Andrea looks pale and strangely swollen. Her breathing is shallow, but the steady blips of the heart monitor reassure him.
He gently runs one finger across her forehead, down her cheek, and around her lips. Her skin is soft and warm—too warm. Slowly and carefully, he leans down and brushes his lips against her forehead as delicately as if he were touching a butterfly wing. Then he ta
