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The doors to the ER of Grady Hospital burst open as Naomi was wheeled in, Alexis still performing CPR. Her hands were steady, but her heart pounded in her chest. "Come on, Naomi! Stay with me!" she pleaded, her voice cracking.

Nurse Kelly intercepted the gurney, immediately taking over compressions as the trauma team sprang into action. The room buzzed with urgency—voices calling out vitals, the beeping of machines, the shuffling of feet as medical professionals worked in sync to save Naomi’s life.

Alexis stood back, breathless and shaking, as she reached for her phone. She had already called Camden multiple times with no answer, and now, desperation clawed at her throat.

She typed quickly, her fingers trembling.

Alexis: Camden, Naomi’s been in a bad accident. She coded in the field; it’s bad. If we get her back, she will need surgery, we’re fighting to keep her here. I don’t know if you even care anymore, but she would want you here. Please. I can’t do this alone. Where are you?

She hit send and exhaled shakily, gripping the phone like a lifeline. "Please, Camden. Don’t let me do this alone," she whispered before shoving it back into her pocket. Turning her focus back to Naomi, she forced herself to stay strong. She couldn’t break. Not now.

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An hour into the flight, Camden sat stiffly in his seat, staring out the window at nothing. He had tried to sleep, tried to distract himself with a drink, but nothing settled the unease gnawing at him. Then, his phone vibrated against the tray table.

Alexis.

Something in his gut twisted. He exhaled, unlocked his phone, and read the message.

His stomach dropped.

He read it again. And again.

A cold sweat prickled at his skin. The hum of the plane dulled, the voices around him muffled like he’d been thrown underwater. His grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white.

Coded. Fighting to keep her here. Surgery.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

The cabin suddenly felt too small, the air too thin. His heart hammered against his ribs, and before he realized it, his other hand was gripping the armrest like he needed to hold onto something solid before the ground gave out beneath him.

He’d missed the calls. He hadn’t answered. And now, Naomi—his Naomi—was barely holding on.

Guilt hit him like a freight train.

How many times had he thought about calling her? About saying something—anything—before it got to this point? He had been stubborn. Angry. So had she. But none of it mattered now.

What if he was too late?

The thought lodged itself in his throat, thick and suffocating. He swallowed hard, his fingers hovering over the screen. He needed to respond. He needed to do something.

But all he could do was stare at Alexis’ last words.

"Where are you?"

Right now, Camden wasn’t sure he even knew.

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Back in the ER, Nurse Kelly and the team worked tirelessly, their voices sharp with focus as they fought to bring Naomi back. The monitor beeped erratically. The tension in the room was suffocating.

"Come on, Naomi," Nurse Kelly muttered under her breath, never pausing in her efforts. "Fight."

"Charge to 200!" Nurse Kelly’s voice was sharp, unwavering.

A defibrillator was wheeled closer. Gel. Paddles. The hum of electricity.

"Clear!"

Naomi’s body jerked, but the line on the monitor held.

Alexis stood outside the glass doors, one hand pressed against her mouth, the other clutching her phone like a lifeline.

"Again!"No response.

"Come on, Naomi," Nurse Kelly muttered.

The room held its breath.

Then—

A blip. A slow, weak rhythm stuttered across the screen.

A pulse.

Alexis let out a shuddering sob, her knees threatening to give out.

Nurse Kelly blew out a breath, nodding to the team. "We’ve got her back."

For now.