Claire stepped closer to the bed, her movements steady, almost too calm. Lucas didn't say a word. He just watched her with narrowed eyes. The room felt heavier now, like the air itself was holding its breath.
The gunman's chest rose and fell slowly, his eyes locked on Claire as she approached. His defiance from earlier was still there, but it wavered the moment her hand wrapped around his.
The yellow ring on her finger glinted under the harsh hospital lights.
"Who sent you?" Claire's voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it carried weight.
The man's eyes fluttered, his lips trembling like he wanted to say something but couldn't. Claire's grip tightened.
"Who?" she asked again, firmer this time.
And then it happened. The ring glowed, faint at first but quickly growing brighter, casting a strange light across the room. The man's entire body jerked like he'd been shocked. His lips parted against his will, and the words began to spill out.
"Don…" he stammered, his voice weak.
