UPSIDE DOWN

~ 47 ~

Andrea 

The doors of the operating room finally open, and every muscle in my body tenses.
A doctor steps out, mask pulled down, fatigue etched into every line of his face. He looks at us, four men frozen mid-breath, and I swear, for a moment, I can't hear a thing except the pounding in my ears.

He clears his throat. "Luca Bernardi's surgery is complete."

Matteo shoots up from the chair so fast it nearly topples. "He's okay?"

The doctor hesitates, and my stomach sinks. "He's stable," he says finally. "The bullet was lodged near the upper lobe of his left lung. It caused partial collapse and some damage to the heart wall."

Francesco grips the edge of his seat. "Damage? What kind of damage?"

The doctor exhales, voice steady but heavy. "We repaired what we could. His body responded well, but... there's trauma to the lung tissue. He'll need intensive therapy, rehabilitation, constant monitoring for a few months before he can breathe or move like before."

I don't even realize I've been holding my breath until it rushes out of me in one trembling exhale.
"So... he's going to recover?" I ask, voice rough.

The doctor nods slowly. "Yes. It will take time, but he's young, strong. His heart is still functioning on its own. He'll make it."

Matteo breaks down first, palms pressed to his face, his shoulders shaking with relief. Francesco leans forward, elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the floor like he doesn't believe it.

Aurelio exhales a laugh that's half a sob. "He's gonna live."

The doctor gives a faint, tired smile. "We're shifting him to the recovery ward soon. He'll be unconscious for a while, but you can see him once he's moved."

And then, he glances at me. The look changes. 

Softer, heavier.

"What about Sylvie?" I ask before he can speak.

He pauses. "Her surgery is still ongoing. There was damage to the back of the skull. The bleeding's been controlled, but..." He trails off, shaking his head slightly. "I'll update you as soon as I have something concrete."

Concrete. 

The word feels like a lie.

Aurelio steps forward. "Just, just tell us she's alive."

The doctor's silence stretches long enough to make my heart stop. "She is," he says finally. "But her condition is extremely critical."

And then he walks away, leaving that one word, critical, ringing in the sterile air.

None of us speak for a long time. The relief of hearing Luca will live collides violently with the dread of Sylvie's silence. It's like trying to breathe underwater, every inhale heavier than the last.

Francesco mutters, "At least one of them is safe."

Safe. The word tastes bitter.

Because Sylvie's not safe. And I don't know how to protect her anymore.

Matteo rubs his face, eyes red. "She'll be fine," he whispers, but it sounds like he's trying to convince himself. "She has to be."

Aurelio sinks back into his chair, elbows on his knees, staring at the double doors. "She took a hit to the head, Andy. What if-"

"Don't." My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to. "Don't say it."

He looks at me, eyes glassy. "You're thinking it too."