The rhythmic hum of the hospital blended with the soft beeps of the machines, a mechanical heartbeat filling the sterile air. Dr. Emilia Navarro stood at the observation window, staring at the unconscious patient on the other side of the glass. His face was still—peaceful, even—despite the violence that had nearly claimed his life hours earlier. She couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at the back of her mind.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sound of footsteps approaching. Without turning, she recognized the voice.

“Emmy.” Dr. Victor Reinhardt's tone was casual, but she knew better. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks for the diagnosis, Victor.” Emilia turned, giving him a tired smile. “I didn’t think you had privileges in the ER.”

“I don’t. But I hear things.” He glanced through the glass at the young man. “Heard you had quite the night.”

“I saved him, but...” She hesitated, trying to put into words the disquiet that had settled in her chest. “Something about him, Victor. It felt wrong.”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Wrong? You save people for a living, Emmy. What’s wrong about that?”

She sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. His injuries were severe, but... when I looked into his eyes, just before he passed out, it was like there was nothing there. No fear. No pain. Just... emptiness.”

Victor’s gaze darkened as he studied the patient more closely. “Emptiness, huh?”

Before Emilia could reply, the door to the observation room creaked open. Inspector Aria Lestrade stepped in, her eyes sharp as they moved between the doctors and the patient.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Lestrade said, her voice steady but laced with urgency. “I need to speak with you, Dr. Navarro.”

Emilia straightened, suddenly feeling like she was being put on trial. “About him?”

“Yes.” Lestrade’s expression didn’t soften. “Do you know who he is?”

“No. He was brought in without identification. We were more concerned about saving his life.”

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Lestrade stepped closer to the window, her hands behind her back. “His name is Lucian Dvorak. He’s connected to multiple ongoing investigations. We’ve been trying to track him down for months.”

Emilia blinked. “What? Investigations for what?”

“Murder,” Lestrade replied flatly. “Organized crime. You name it. He’s dangerous, Doctor.”

Victor crossed his arms. “And you’re saying Emmy should’ve let him die on the table?”

Lestrade’s eyes narrowed at him. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

Emilia felt a chill crawl up her spine. “If he’s that dangerous, why didn’t anyone warn us?”

“We didn’t know he’d end up in your OR until it was too late,” Lestrade said. “Now that he’s here, I need to know everything. What did he say to you? Did he do anything unusual?”

Emilia shook her head slowly. “No. He was barely conscious when they brought him in. He didn’t say anything.”

Lestrade scrutinized her, searching for any hint of doubt. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Emilia snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “I saved his life. That’s all.”

For a moment, silence hung between them. Lestrade broke it first, her voice low. “You don’t understand, Doctor. This man... wherever he goes, death follows.”

Victor chuckled darkly. “Aren’t you being a little dramatic, Inspector?”

Lestrade ignored him, focusing on Emilia. “You need to be careful. People close to Lucian Dvorak have a habit of disappearing. I’d advise you to stay far away from him.”

Emilia’s eyes flickered toward the unconscious figure in the next room. His face was serene, almost angelic, and yet, the inspector’s words echoed in her mind, wrapping around her like chains.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said quietly.

Lestrade gave her one last hard look before turning to leave. “If he wakes up, you contact me immediately.”

After the door clicked shut behind her, Victor let out a breath, shaking his head. “Charming woman. I bet she’s fun at parties.”

Emilia didn’t respond. Her gaze remained locked on Lucian. He looked so peaceful, so fragile. It was hard to reconcile the image before her with the monster Lestrade had described.

“You’re taking her seriously, aren’t you?” Victor said, his voice gentler now.

“I don’t know.” She rubbed her temples. “Something about this... none of it feels right.”

Victor approached, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Emmy, you’re overthinking. You did your job. Don’t let some overzealous cop get into your head.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she murmured, but even as she said it, the unease lingered.

Victor gave her a reassuring pat and turned to leave. “Get some rest. You’ve been up too long.”

Emilia nodded absently, her attention still on Lucian. After Victor left, the room felt unnervingly quiet. She stayed there for a few more minutes, watching him, searching for answers in the silence.

Finally, with a sigh, she tore herself away and headed for the door. Just as her hand touched the handle, a sound stopped her.

A whisper.

Her blood ran cold as she turned, her eyes locking onto Lucian’s face. His lips moved ever so slightly, a faint smile curling at the edges. His eyes remained closed, but the word he spoke hung in the air.

"Emilia..."

Her heart hammered in her chest. She hadn’t told him her name.