Chapter 2

I was jolted awake by the sound of a saw cutting through bone.

The vibration shot through every nerve in my body, the pain so intense I couldn't even scream—my mouth just hung open, like a fish out of water.

"Patient's in shock! Get the adrenaline!"

"The right leg's a lost cause—tissue's completely dead. We have to amputate!"

"Where's the family? Where are they? We need a signature!"

Amid the chaos, I heard the head nurse yelling, "Call Captain Gray! We've called him thirty times. Why isn't he picking up?"

"Captain Gray's in the tent next door. Serena just got a scratch on her finger, and he's giving her a tetanus shot. He's coaxing her to drink some water."

The operating room went completely silent.

The lead surgeon was a senior professor, and also my mentor.

With red-rimmed eyes, he took my hand, his grip trembling. "Mia, I'll sign the papers for you. Your life comes first. We'll worry about your leg later."

A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, and I passed out again.

When I finally woke up, three days had gone by.

The hospital room reeked of disinfectant.

My gaze dropped to the empty pant leg on my right side.

There was nothing there anymore.

I used to climb mountains and crawl through ruins with Quincy, saving lives together. Now, I was left with only one leg.

The door was pushed open.

Quincy walked in.

He was dressed in a crisp rescue team uniform, holding a bouquet of roses so red they looked like they could bleed. His face showed exhaustion, but even more, a weary, almost forgiving expression—like he'd already done everything he could.

When he saw I was awake, he let out a sigh of relief and set the flowers down on the bedside table. "Glad you're awake."

He pulled up a chair and sat down, sounding so casual it was like we'd just had a minor argument. "The doctor said you're lucky to be alive. The amputation went smoothly.

"Yeah, you lost a leg, but once you get a prosthetic, it won't really affect your life. I've already arranged things with the logistics office. You'll be working a desk job from now on."

I stared at him in silence.

His indifference made me feel utterly ridiculous.

When I didn't respond, Quincy frowned, seeming displeased with my reaction.

"Mia, don't look at me like that. I get that you're angry, but you know what the situation was. Serena's really fragile. If I hadn't gotten to her first, she would've totally lost it."

He tried to touch my face, but I turned my head away.

His hand hung awkwardly in the air, and his expression turned grim.

"How long are you going to keep this up? Serena's been crying nonstop for the past two days. Her eyes are all swollen. She says she feels guilty about what happened, and she can't even eat.

"Can't you be a little more understanding? Do you really have to make everyone see you're still holding a grudge over something so minor?"

"You call this minor?" I finally spoke. My voice was hoarse, raspy—like sandpaper scraping across a table.

I pointed at the empty pant leg, locking eyes with him. "Quincy, is my leg really just 'nothing' to you?"

Quincy glanced at my leg, his gaze flickering for a second before that self-righteous, "for the greater good" attitude took over again.

"You lost it saving lives. That's an honor," he said.

"And if you hadn't been yelling and wasting your energy, maybe you could've lasted until I came back for you. Your leg might have been saved. Honestly, you're just too fragile."

Ha.

Yeah, right.

So I was the fragile one.

A steel rod pierced my thigh. I lasted seventy-two hours, and in the end, they had to amputate.

Serena just scraped her finger, and he spent three days coddling her in his arms.

So in the end, I was the one who was too delicate.

"Get out." I closed my eyes and pointed at the door. "Take your flowers with you and get out."

Quincy didn't leave.

He didn't just stay; he even brought Serena into my hospital room.

Serena was drowning in a baggy hospital gown, her head wrapped in an absurd amount of bandages. She looked so pale and shaky, it seemed like she could collapse at any moment.

The moment she stepped inside, she dropped to her knees beside my bed, tears streaming down her face. "Mia.

"I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. If Quincy hadn't been trying to save me, he never would've left you alone. Hit me, yell at me, whatever you want. Please, don't blame Quincy."

She sobbed so hard, tears streaming down her face, her whole body shaking like a leaf.

Quincy couldn't stand it. He rushed over, pulled her up, and wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight.

He said, "Serena, what are you doing? The floor's freezing. You're still not well, and the doctor said you're not supposed to get upset."

He turned and shot me a glare, like I was the villain in all this.

"Mia, is this what you wanted? You made Serena get down on her knees—does that make you feel good?"