No strings attached / Leon s. Kennedy

Chapter 35

Amber

The world comes back slowly, piece by piece, like trying to assemble a puzzle with trembling hands. My body feels heavy, weighed down by something I can't see, and there's a dull, constant ache in my stomach that pulses with every shallow breath I take. My head feels foggy, my thoughts sluggish as if I'm trying to wade through a thick haze.

The first thing I notice is the sound—the steady beeping of a machine somewhere near me, rhythmic and unrelenting. My fingers twitch, brushing against soft fabric, and my eyes flutter open, the sterile white of the hospital room blinding for a moment.

I try to speak, but the moment I move my lips, I feel the tug of something against my throat. A gasp escapes me, weak and strained, and panic shoots through me like a lightning bolt. My hands instinctively fly up, clawing at the tubes and wires attached to me, but my arms feel like they're weighed down by sandbags.

My breathing quickens, shallow and frantic, as the reality of where I am sets in. The IV in my arm, the monitors beside me, the oxygen cannula resting against my face—it all screams hospital.

And then it hits me. The last thing I remember. The gunshot. The blood. The file.

I try again to speak, but the only sound that comes out is a hoarse, broken whimper. My chest tightens as the anxiety swells, threatening to drown me. I'm alive, but I don't know if that's a good thing.

"Torres," a voice calls, steady and firm, cutting through the chaos in my head like a blade.

I freeze, my eyes darting to the source of the voice. Standing near the foot of my bed is a man I've seen before, someone whose voice I've heard but never fully placed until now. The man from the raid. The one who was with Leon.

Chris. That was his name, I think.

He steps closer, his expression unreadable but not unkind. "Take it easy," he says, holding his hands up slightly, as if to show he's not a threat. "You're okay. You're safe."

Safe. The word feels foreign, almost laughable. My throat burns with the effort of trying to speak again, but the words catch, and I can only stare at him, my breaths coming fast and uneven.

Chris watches me carefully, his voice softer now. "Amber, you need to calm down. The doctors said you're stable, but you've been through a lot. Just breathe, okay?"

I want to believe him, want to let his words anchor me, but all I can think about is what I saw before everything went dark. The file. Ada. Leon. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, blurring my vision, and I hate how vulnerable I feel, how exposed I am lying here in this bed.

Chris steps closer again, his presence steadying in a way I don't understand. "You're alive," he says, his voice firm but not harsh. "That's what matters right now. We can talk about the rest later."

The rest. My heart aches, my thoughts spiraling as I wonder what the rest even means. I want answers, but right now, I don't even know where to begin.

The words leave my mouth before I can even think, raw and desperate. "Where is he?" My voice is hoarse, barely more than a whisper, but it's clear enough for Chris to hear. "Leon... where is he?"

Chris's face tightens, his jaw clenching slightly, but he doesn't answer right away. Instead, he pulls a chair closer to the bed and sits down, his presence calm but unyielding. "I need to ask you some questions first, Amber," he says, his tone steady but firm. "If you answer them, I'll tell you about Leon."

I nod weakly, my throat burning with the effort of speaking even those few words. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of dread and hope twisting inside me. I don't know what answers he's looking for, but if it gets me closer to knowing where Leon is, I'll give him whatever he wants.