Raiden Ferrara

The door had been closed for fifteen minutes. I kept my arms crossed, leaning against the wall near the hallway, eyes fixed on nothing. The hallway light was dim but the silence behind it was louder than anything we’d heard tonight.

Billy sat in one of the low chairs near the center of the room, leg bouncing as he scrolled through something on his phone. He wasn’t reading it, just pretending to be occupied. I knew him too well for that.

Neither of us said anything for a while.

Dr. Mara Teylan was one of the few people in my circle who didn’t ask unnecessary questions. Discreet. Efficient. Human, when she needed to be. I’d trusted her with worse.

Still, this felt different.

“You’re pacing with your spine,” Billy said suddenly, eyes still on his screen. “You know that, right?”

I gave him a look.

He shrugged. “You haven’t moved, but I can practically hear your nerves grinding.”

I turned away, focusing on the door again. “She’s been in there too long.”

“She’s got two sprains, bruises and a wrapped hand. Not heart surgery.”

“She’s also a woman who’s been locked up for days,” I muttered. “She might not even let her touch her.”

Billy stood and walked toward the window, slipping his phone into his jacket. “I get it. She’s messed up. But we still don’t know who she is. No ID, no story. Just a first name.”

“I know,” I said.

“So what’s the plan?”

I didn’t answer right away. Because the truth was, I wasn’t sure.

I was used to answers. To strategies, blueprints, timelines. I played chess while everyone else fought in the dirt. But this girl, Blake had derailed the board without even trying.

Before I could respond, the door opened.

Dr. Teylan stepped out quietly, pulling the door closed behind her. She had her clipboard in one hand, a small medical bag slung over her shoulder.

“She’s alright?” I asked.

“She’s stable,” Mara said, meeting my eyes. “No fractures. Her right hand is sprained with soft tissue damage, she’s lucky it didn’t tear more. I wrapped it and prescribed something for inflammation.”

“And the ankle?” Billy asked, crossing his arms.

“Same. Ligament strain. She shouldn’t be walking far for a few days and definitely not without support.”

Mara paused then, glancing between the two of us.

“There’s bruising on her cheek, her neck and along her ribs. Signs of impact. A few cuts that should heal with proper care.”

She didn’t elaborate but she didn’t need to. I could hear what she didn’t say.

No broken bones. No internal bleeding.

But that wasn’t the same as untouched.

“She didn’t want to be examined for everything,” Mara added carefully. “And I didn’t push her. But she answered what mattered for medical reasons.”

I nodded slowly.

Billy stayed quiet.

Mara pulled out a small package of cream and handed it to me. “This is for her lips and face. I told her how to use it but she might need help remembering when everything sinks in. Trauma does that.”

I took the package from her, fingers brushing the soft plastic.

“She’ll need to rest,” she said. “Two weeks, minimum. Physically. Mentally, it might take longer.”

Mara’s tone wasn’t cold. Just blunt. Like a warning without saying it outright.

“You did good getting her out,” she added. “But that’s not the same as fixing her.”

Then she turned, gave a polite nod to both of us and left the room.

The quiet returned like a ghost, slipping into the corners.

I looked down at the cream in my hand. For her lips. Her face. Her wounds.

I wasn’t used to this kind of damage. Most of the people I helped had enemies. They fought back, bled, made deals. But Blake?

She hadn’t even seen it coming.

I thought back to the warehouse. The bodies we left behind. Dixon’s men. G’s absence.

We’d set fire to a nest and now the snakes were scattering.

And this girl, the one asleep in the car an hour ago, was caught somewhere in the middle of it. Not a player. Not a pawn. Just… there.

Why?

Who put her in that house?

And what the hell was I supposed to do with her now?

My mind drifted, back to my father, to Veronica, to the endless strings of loyalty and leverage I’d been trying to juggle for years. I could barely keep my own world from falling apart. Now I’d added hers to the mix.

Billy sighed, running a hand down his face.

“This is going to get complicated, isn’t it?”

I didn’t answer.

Because it already was.