337 SOBER

The room was quiet after Isabella left, save for the soft hum of the hospital machinery keeping rhythm with Luka's shallow breaths. Emerald sat beside her brother's bed, her presence a silent vigil in the dim light. The handcuff around Luka's wrist was a cold, unforgiving reminder of the distance that had grown between them; a chasm widened by bad choices and unheeded warnings. Luka's eyes fluttered open, settling on Emerald with a weariness that went beyond physical pain. "Emy," he murmured, the nickname a ghost of their childhood closeness. Emerald leaned forward, her heart heavy with words unsaid. "Hey, Luka. How are you feeling?" Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed the storm of emotions within. Luka attempted a weak smile, but it faltered. "Like I've been shot and chained to a bed. But that's not what you meant, is it?" He said as his gaze dropped. "I should've listened to you, Emy. I was so stupid." Emerald shook her head slightly, her fingers tracing the edge of the