Emma was completely still now–whether she’d lost consciousness or was already gone, no one could tell.

As the rescue team burst onto the scene, Ivy managed to lift her hand weakly, but not a single sound escaped her lips before she, too, slipped into darkness.

“Patient is HIV positive, everyone be careful!” The paramedics and firefighters called out reminders to each other as they worked.

Meanwhile, Jamison tore out of the elevator and sprinted down the hall. By the time he reached the scene, Ivy was still lying on the inflatable rescue mat, not yet moved.

A firefighter stepped in to block his path, but someone nearby quickly said, “He’s family–and a doctor.”

They let him through.

Jamison rushed forward, and finally saw Ivy–her entire body streaked with blood.

In that instant, after moving on autopilot for so long, he felt pain shoot through him like a thousand arrows.

He thought he’d already lost her.

For a split second, his legs froze. Then, driven by dread, he lunged forward even faster.

“Ivy, Ivy…” He didn’t dare move her, not knowing the extent of her injuries. All he could do was kneel beside her and gently cradle her face, calling her name.

She didn’t respond–she was completely unconscious.

But when he checked, he found a pulse, a flutter of life. His suffocating heart thudded back to life.

Ivy wasn’t dead. She was still here. Still breathing.

Moments later, the team lifted Ivy onto a stretcher. A police officer quickly unlocked the handcuffs from her delicate, bloodied wrist, the wounds stark and shocking against her pale skin.

It took less than two minutes to get her from the hospital’s entrance to the emergency room.

Though Jamison was a doctor himself, this wasn’t his hospital, and in his current state, he knew he wasn't in the right mindset to join the trauma team. All he could do was pace the hallway, worry gnawing at him.

News traveled fast–within minutes, the incident was all over social media and spreading through the local community. His phone started ringing, message after message pouring in. But Jamison couldn’t care less; his mind was fixed only on Ivy. He put his phone on silent and ignored every call.

After a tense wait, a doctor came out, his tone reassuring. “Professor Ludwig, Mrs. Ludwig’s vital signs are stable. However, preliminary scans show a ruptured spleen and a dislocated fracture of the second tailbone vertebra. Also, since Emma is HIV positive and Mrs. Ludwig suffered multiple open wounds during the fall…”

Jamison cut him off with a raised hand. “I know. She’ll need antiretroviral medication.”

“Right, you’re a physician–you know the protocol. Would you prefer to transfer her, or should we operate here at Pinevale Regional?"

The doctor was well aware of Jamison’s status–and figured he’d want his wife moved to their own hospital, the best private clinic in Neo Haven, with far superior facilities.

Jamison nodded his thanks and immediately requested a transfer.

A ruptured spleen meant dangerous internal bleeding; every minute counted. Jamison called the authorities and secured a police escort to speed their way through traffic.

Once Ivy was stabilized and loaded into the ambulance, Jamison rode with her, refusing to leave her side.

After emergency care en route, Ivy drifted back to consciousness. Her vision was blurred, but she recognized the familiar figure holding her hand.

She tried to speak, but before she could, Jamison noticed she was awake and leaned in close.

“Ivy, what is it? What do you want to say?”

“Don’t… don’t worry…” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. Everything hurt, though she couldn’t even pinpoint where; every breath felt like a struggle.

Jamison nodded, trying to comfort her. “Alright. I won’t worry. I’m right here with you.”

“Where… where are we going…”

Softly, he answered, “We’re transferring you. Your spleen is ruptured, your tailbone is fractured and out of place–you’ll need surgery. We’re taking you back to my hospital.”

Ivy closed her eyes, trying to steady her breath.

But really, she wasn’t afraid anymore.

The moment she fell, she’d accepted the thought of dying. She hadn’t felt fear–only regret. Regret that she couldn’t stay with Jamison, that after all he’d endured and after finally finding someone he loved, she couldn’t be there for him. She’d only felt sorry for him.

Now, knowing she’d survived–even if it meant losing her spleen–she didn’t mind at all.

When she went silent again, Jamison grew anxious.

“Ivy?”

She opened her eyes, managing a weak smile. “Sorry… I must have scared you.”