Chapter 13: Am I Wrong?
The doctor turned to leave, his shoulders slumped with the weight of uncertainty. "It's a waiting game," he'd said, his voice low. "Either she slips into a coma, or she wakes up... but even then, she might not be able to move." Just as he reached the door, a faint rise and fall became visible beneath Manon's thin hospital blanket, a fragile rhythm of life returning. The doctor spun around, his eyes widening in surprise and a flicker of hope. Nurses rushed into the room, their movements quick and precise as they prepared and administered injections. After a few tense minutes that stretched into an eternity, Manon's breathing stabilized, the shallow gasps evening out. The nurse, her face bright with relief, hurried out to the waiting room. "She's awake!" she announced, the words a burst of light in the heavy atmosphere. It was as if the air itself had thickened with held breath, then lightened as both Adrien and Robin finally exhaled, the tension visibly leaving their bodies. For the first time in eight years, they breathed the same air, united by the same raw emotion. "Can I see her?" Robin asked, his voice rough, the words catching slightly in his throat. Adrien's eyebrows furrowed, a protective instinct kicking in. " I should see her," he countered, a sharp edge to his voice, a silent claim. The nurse chuckled softly, sensing the charged air between them. "You both can. But be gentle. She's just regained consciousness." She offered a small, knowing smile and left them to their shared anxiety.
Adrien and Robin entered the room, the silence thick with unspoken words. Manon lay pale and fragile against the white pillows, but her eyes were open, unfocused at first, then slowly gaining clarity. Robin stepped forward, his gaze intense, searching. "What were you doing there? You could have died!" His voice was raw with a mixture of fear and accusation. Manon's fingers tightened on the crisp hospital bedsheet as the fragmented memory of seeing him just before everything went black flickered in her mind. Adrien noticed the subtle shift in her demeanor, a flicker of unease in her eyes. "Thank you, Robin, for your help," Adrien said smoothly, stepping slightly between them, a protective barrier. "Perhaps you could give us a moment?" Robin, his gaze lingering on Manon, a question in his eyes as he registered her reaction, nodded curtly and left the room without another word. Manon watched him go, a strange mix of confusion and a lingering sense of something unresolved swirling inside her. I can't have feelings for someone who might have tried to hurt me, she thought, a firm wall rising in her mind, even as a small, unsettling part of her questioned the certainty of that thought. I have my writing, my future to focus on. I can't afford to take any chances. She turned her gaze to Adrien, who stood silently by her side, his expression unreadable. "Did they catch them?" she asked, her voice weak and raspy.
Adrien sighed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with a complex mix of worry and frustration. "Manon, what were you thinking? You're not a child anymore! What if something terrible had happened? What would I have told Mom? That her only hope... was gone?" His voice was low but carried a sharp, unfamiliar coldness, a stark contrast to his usual teasing tone. Manon's chest tightened, a pang of guilt hitting her. She'd never heard him so genuinely angry, so scared. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. "I'm sorry, Adrien," she whispered, her voice trembling, the words barely audible. "I didn't mean to hurt you." Adrien's expression softened almost imperceptibly, the hard edges momentarily fading. "They were arrested. And they found the book, but a few chapters are missing." He paused, his gaze flickered away for a moment, then returned. "The doctor said you can go home tomorrow morning. Your friends will be here." He turned and walked towards the door, closing it gently but firmly behind him, leaving Manon alone with her thoughts.
Manon stared at the blank wall, a whirlwind of emotions and unanswered questions swirling within her. A notification popped up on her phone, lying untouched on the bedside table, but she ignored it, her mind elsewhere. Is this what it takes to write a great novel? To put myself in danger? she wondered, a shiver tracing down her spine. Am I wrong to follow this story, this… feeling? But the image of Robin's intense gaze flashed in her mind. Why does it have to be him? Why do these doubts keep nagging at me? What was the next step? The next mission? This was far more complicated, more dangerous, than she had ever imagined. She reached for her phone, surprised to see it hadn't been damaged. Opening her writing app, her eyes widened in disbelief. Thirty downloads. Ten comments. Her breath hitched. "I love this novel! The author really brings the characters to life. I can't wait for the next chapter!" Tears streamed down Manon's face, a mix of relief and a strange validation. It was worth it, she thought, the weight of her fear momentarily lifting. These comments... they mean everything. Just as she began to read another comment, another notification appeared, pushing the others down. She tapped it, her breath catching sharply in her throat, her eyes widening in confusion and a dawning sense of dread. "What do they mean? How...?" The words on the screen seemed to swim before her eyes, their meaning both clear and utterly impossible.