CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE – ONE MORE CHANCE

The steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in Kayla's hospital room. Lance sat hunched in the chair beside her bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at Kayla's pale, motionless form. Her chest rose and fell slightly with each shallow breath. The bandages wrapped around her abdomen stood out starkly against her fair skin. Lance's jaw clenched as he remembered the frantic moments after she had been shot, pressing his hands to the bleeding wound desperately as she went limp in his arms. "Please, Kayla..." he whispered hoarsely. "You have to pull through this." His fingers gently stroked her arm, hoping for even the slightest response, but she remained still. The doctors had warned it could take time for her to regain consciousness after the trauma her body had been through. Days began to blur together as Lance remained an unwavering vigil by Kayla's bedside. He had the hospital room stocked with fresh flowers, their soft fragrance providing a slight comfort