In the shadowy underworld of organized crime, two individuals stand poised on opposite sides of the law, each concealing their true identity behind a veil of secrets. Frost is a fierce and determined woman driven by a desire for justice and vengeanc...
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FIRE
Thomas is crouched over the complex set-up in Katherine's secret room, eyes glued to the screen as he types away furiously. Wires, blinking lights, encrypted codes—it's all here. Advanced. Far more advanced than anything I've seen in most underground systems. He whistles under his breath, shaking his head as he sifts through lines of code.
"Who the hell is she?" he jokes, glancing up at me with a wry smile. "Your innocent med student has a better system than half the tech geeks in the mafia."
I don't answer. His joke hits too close to home. I'm still processing the fact that Katherine—the same Katherine who smelled like milk and honey, who couldn't hurt a fly—was running this kind of operation behind closed doors. The idea gnaws at me, making me question everything I thought I knew about her.
"Get on with it, Thomas," I growl, folding my arms. "I don't have time for jokes."
He smirks but gets back to work. The system is incredibly sophisticated, more than I expected. Katherine wasn't playing around. There are layers of encryption, backup defenses, and fail-safes. Whatever she was guarding here—it was big.
Hours drag on. The room is dimly lit, and the only sound is the quiet hum of the computers and Thomas's occasional grunts of frustration. He's good, but even he's sweating over this setup.
-----
My phone buzzes, I glance at the screen and see Gabriella's name flashing. My grip tightens around the phone, and I answer immediately.
"Cruz, it's Katherine," Gabriella says, her voice steady but with a hint of urgency.
My pulse spikes, every muscle in my body tensing. "What is it? What happened?"
"She's... moving her eyes," Gabriella says. "It looks like she's finally responding. I think she's starting to track movement. It could mean she's aware of her surroundings, maybe even seeing people."
For a moment, I stand there, the words sinking in. Her eyes. She's looking at people. It's the first real sign that she might be coming back.
I don't even respond—I hang up, already moving.
----
My foot is heavy on the gas as I speed through the city. My mind is racing as fast as the engine. Katherine. Is she finally waking up? Does she know what's happening?
For weeks, she's been locked away in her own mind, and every sign of recovery has been painfully slow. But now, the possibility that she's aware—that she's seeing—is like a fire lit beneath me. My mind starts racing, turning to the same question that's haunted me since I found her apartment.
Who the hell is Katherine?
The thought that maybe I've been blind all along gnaws at me. There's so much I don't know, and everything points to her having secrets—dangerous ones.
I burst through the door of my penthouse, heart pounding as I stride toward her room. Gabriella stands near the bed, looking down at Katherine, her expression a mix of surprise and cautious optimism.
"She's been moving her eyes for a few minutes now," Gabriella says quietly as I step up beside her.
I stare down at Katherine. Her eyes, once unfocused and distant, now move slowly, tracing the room. They're still foggy, but there's something there—some awareness.
"Katherine," I murmur, leaning closer, hoping for any sign that she's seeing me, recognizing me.
Her gaze shifts, almost imperceptibly, and for the first time in weeks, I feel that spark of hope again. But there's also a question in my mind—a question I can't shake.
Is she still the same person? Or have I been blind to who she really is this whole time?
Her eyes continue to move, and for a moment, I think they lock onto mine. My heart skips a beat, but then they drift again, as if she's looking past me.
It's progress, but it's also a reminder—she's still trapped in that haze, and I'm still left in the dark about who she really is.
I stand there, watching Katherine's eyes slowly drift around the room, and for the first time in weeks, I feel a flicker of hope. But Gabriella isn't done yet. She steps beside me, her face serious.
"There's one more thing we need to check," she says softly. "It's possible she may or may not be able to hear us. We can't know for sure until we test it."
I feel a knot tighten in my chest. Hearing? I glance at Katherine, her eyes moving but not focusing on anything specific. The idea that she might be awake but deaf to the world around her twists something inside me.
"How do we do that?" I ask, my voice low, already bracing myself for the answer.
Gabriella pulls a small device from her bag and moves closer to Katherine. "We're going to send some audio signals, simple tones at different frequencies, and see if her brain reacts. It's non-invasive, just a way to measure if there's any auditory response."
I nod, stepping back slightly, watching as Gabriella prepares the device and places small sensors around Katherine's head. The beeps start, soft and steady, but Katherine's face remains still, her eyes continuing to roam the room without focus.
Gabriella watches the monitor, her brow furrowing slightly. After a few minutes, she switches off the device and turns to me.
"She's not responding," Gabriella says quietly, her voice careful. "It doesn't look like she can hear us right now. But... it's too early to say for sure. The brain can take time to recover. We'll just need to give her more time."
No reaction. It feels like a punch to the gut, but I nod, pushing down the frustration rising in my chest. Time. Everything takes time. It's a word I've come to hate these past weeks.
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