Moments later, Isla marched past the glass doors of St. Mary’s Hospital. Her breathing had lost rhythm, while her shoes sounded so loud and uneven against the floor as she hurried toward the reception desk, On getting there, her voice trembled with great urgency as she blurted with wide eyes, “Damien Blackwood. He…He was brought in not too long ago… where is he? What’s his condition?” The nurse at the counter blinked twice in what looked like surprise before leaning toward her computer, but by that time, Isla was no longer listening. Her eyes had already caught sight of someone, Collins. He was standing at the far end of the corridor, and for a second, Isla's face grew tight, as if something painful had been forced down her throat. Collins turned at that same moment, and the recognition in his eyes broke into immediate movement. “Isla!” He waved, immediately, and started to rush toward her, apprehension evident in the movement of his legs. When he reached her, he
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