Chapter 1 - THE BLINDS NOBODY WAS ALLOWED TO TOUCH
Clara Bennett lowered the syringe.
Liam Mercer stared at the ceiling.
His jaw was locked so tightly she could see the muscles jumping beneath his skin.
“Pain level,” she repeated. “One to ten.”
Silence.
“Fine.”
She placed the medication on the bedside tray.
Then walked toward the windows.
Liam's head turned.
“Don't.”
Clara stopped.
His voice was different.
Not angry.
Afraid.
She looked at the heavy black curtains covering the entire western wall.
“What's behind these?”
“Nothing you need to see.”
“Then you won't mind.”
She reached for the cord.
“Clara.”
It was the first time he'd used her name.
She paused.
Liam's pale eyes fixed on her.
“Don't open them.”
Clara studied him.
His hands were gripping the sheets.
His breathing had changed.
For four days, she'd watched this man insult nurses, threaten guards, refuse treatment, and throw expensive objects across the room.
But she'd never seen him look like this.
Terrified.
She released the cord.
“Okay.”
Liam blinked.
He had expected a fight.
Clara pulled the leather chair closer.
“I'm not opening them.”
His breathing slowed slightly.
“But you need to tell me why you can't stand the light.”
Liam looked away.
“Get out.”
“No.”
“That's an order.”
“Then fire me.”
He turned toward her.
“You think I won't?”
“I think you need a nurse more than I need a pleasant employer.”
His mouth tightened.
Clara sat.
“And I think something happened in this room that nobody wants to talk about.”
Liam's expression changed.
For a moment, she thought he might throw something.
Instead, he whispered, “It wasn't this room.”
Clara waited.
He stared toward the curtains.
“It was the road.”
She said nothing.
Liam swallowed.
“The last thing I saw before the car went over the bridge was sunlight.”
His voice became rough.
“Straight through the windshield.”
Clara felt something shift inside her chest.
The darkness wasn't a preference.
It was a memory.
A prison built from fear.
She leaned forward.
“Liam.”
He looked at her.
“You're not on that road anymore.”
His eyes hardened.
“You don't know where I am.”
“No,” she admitted.
“But I know you're in a bed with an infected wound, a shattered leg, and a nurse who is not impressed by your personality.”
For one second, his mouth twitched.
Then he looked away.
Clara picked up the syringe again.
“Now. Pain level.”
A long silence.
Then Liam whispered, “Nine.”
Clara nodded.
“Thank you.”
She administered the prescribed medication after checking his chart and vital signs.
Then she adjusted his pillows.
He watched her.
“Why didn't you open them?”
Clara looked at him.
“Because you said no.”
His expression became unreadable.
She returned to her chair.
“Try to sleep.”
Liam stared at her for a long time.
May you like
Then whispered something she barely heard.
“That's new.”
