Caleb felt his heart skip a beat.
A cold, heavy knot twisted in his chest.
Julia's eyes were shut—completely still.
No flutter. No sign of life.
"Julia!" he cried, his voice cracking.
"Julia!"
He shook her—first gently, then more urgently.
Still no response.
His mind froze for a second, locked in disbelief.
Then instinct took over.
He tore a strip from his shirt and pressed it firmly against the gaping wound in her stomach.
But the fabric soaked through almost instantly, the blood refusing to stop.
"We need to get her to a hospital—now!" he yelled, scooping her into his arms without hesitation.
Naya was already by his side, matching his urgency.
Together, they bolted down the corridor—Caleb's footsteps thundered against the ground, his heart racing with every desperate stride.
Caleb didn't know why he felt this way.
Why the weight in his chest felt so heavy.
Why the girl in his arms felt so important.
