"SIENNA!"

I bolted upright with a strangled gasp, my heart pounding so furiously I thought it might burst through my ribs.

The world spun in my eyes. Everything felt wrong and disjointed, and for one dizzy, panic-stricken moment, I couldn't tell if I was dead or alive.

I remembered falling. I remembered Tristan. I remembered the bitter taste of desperation as I fought to get away, the helpless tumble down the stairs, the sharp crack of bone.

Was I... was I in heaven?

My world gradually steadied and my surroundings sharpened into focus. Brown walls, white light, Ayesha.

Wait—

Ayesha?

She was standing over me, her brows furrowed. "Sienna, are you okay?"

I blinked at her, struggling to reconcile her face to my reality.

Where was I?

I glanced around. The on-call room.

I was on the narrow bed in the on-call room, not splayed at the bottom of a staircase, not dying.

My hands shot to my stomach. My babies. I pressed my palms there, feeling for movement, some sign of life. Relief flooded me as I felt the gentle stretch, the unmistakable pressure of the twins nestled inside. They were still there, still growing, still safe.

"Sienna, you're seriously starting to freak me out," Ayesha said, dropping to her knees beside the cot. "You look like you've just crawled out of a horror movie."

I licked my dry lips, trying to summon words. "H-how did I get here?"

She tilted her head slightly. "What do you mean how did you get here?" Her eyes narrowed slightly, like she was assessing whether I'd gone crazy. "You came back from lunch with McHotty, muttered something about needing a nap before your shift started, and then proceeded to pass out like a rock." She checked the watch strapped to her wrist. "That was an hour ago, and I've been trying to wake you for what feels like an eternity."

The words took a minute to click through the fog in my mind. "I'd been sleeping?"

"Dead to the world," she confirmed, crossing her arms. "When I couldn't wake you, I thought you might've fainted or something. Honestly, I was about to check if I needed to perform CPR."

I glanced down at my hands. They were trembling, the phantom sensation of falling still gripping me. I clenched them into fists, willing myself to feel present. The fall. The terror. Tristan's rage. None of it had been real. It was just a dream, a twisted work of my exhausted subconscious. Tristan hadn't pushed me. I hadn't fallen.

How exhausted had I become to conjure such a horrifying vision?

"Sienna?" Ayesha prompted again. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"I... I'm fine," I managed, though my voice didn't sound convincing, even to me. "I just had a nightmare. A really, really vivid nightmare."

Her eyes searched mine, still doubtful. She hesitated, then stood. "Okay, well, nightmare or not, you have bigger problems. Mrs. Odette's on the warpath looking for you and she does not look happy." She winced. "I came to warn you before she burst in here and dragged you out by your hair."

The mention of Odette sent a fresh wave of dread through me, this time rooted firmly in reality. "Fantastic," I groaned, rubbing my eyes. "Why does she hate me so much?"

She shrugged. "Beats me."

"Thanks for the heads up anyway."

"Anytime," she said, rummaging in her pocket. She pulled out a crumpled packet of gum and held it out. "Here. You look like you could use a pick-me-up."

I managed a weak smile, grateful for the small gesture. "I definitely needed that. Thanks."

She gave me a crooked grin. "Don't mention it. Just remember—you owe me lunch. And hurry before Mrs. Odette declares a manhunt. You don't want to be at the wrong end of her fury."

"I owe you big time," I managed, trying to inject some humor into my voice.

"Of course you do," she said with a grin, backing toward the door. "I'll do my best to stall the dragon. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

The door clicked shut behind her, and I exhaled shakily, clutching my chest. "It was just a dream," I murmured, my voice trembling. I repeated the words like a mantra, willing the truth to sink in, even as my skin prickled with the remembered terror. The fall. Tristan's rage. None of it had been real. Just a product of my exhausted subconscious.

I closed my eyes, taking in the steady, ordinary noises of the hospital. The beeping of monitors, the low hum of voices outside the door, the scent of disinfectant. All familiar. All real.

It was just a dream...

Still, to be sure, to reassure myself that I hadn't just plunged to my death in some warped version of reality, I pinched my arm. Hard. The jolt of pain shot up my nerves, making me wince. I was alive. Here, still breathing. My babies were safe, and my life, chaotic and messy as it was, was still intact. I nearly laughed at the absurdity of it, but the sound that came out was more of a sigh.

Steeling myself, I forced one last deep breath, then straightened. Everything else could wait.

For now, survival meant handling Mrs. Odette.

And so I opened the door, bracing for whatever storm awaited me.