CHAPTER 137

Dr. Fletcher walked through the door, exhaustion written on his face. He pulled off his surgical cap and ran a hand through his hair. Grandpa, Sarah, Mia, and I all stood as a unit when he approached. Sarah wrapped her hand around mine, her grip tight. She had been a rock for me the entire time, refusing to be anything except positive, despite the inner turmoil she must be going through too.

I tried to read Dr. Fletcher’s face. I had no clue what he was going to tell me, but his expression was grave. My stomach clenched, and I had to reach for Grandpa's hand as well to stop from falling. Dr. Fletcher stopped in front of me. “He pulled through,” he stated simply.

Hot tears spilled down my face.

“He isn’t out of the woods yet,” he cautioned. “There was a lot of damage. He took a substantial blow to his spine and his head.” I could only nod, unable to speak. Christian was still alive. He was still here—fighting. “He’ll be in a special ICU and closely monitored once he leaves recovery. In