Page 110 of Seven Minutes
Chapter 39
Scare Test
ADRIAN
I’d promised myself I wouldn’t get pulled in. Not today. Not onhissecond week back at work. Not after nights of sleeping with Eli’s head tucked under my chin like he belonged there—which he did—and watching color return to his face in degrees I’d memorized.
But medicine is medicine, and sometimes it shows up like a mugger in the alley of your good intentions.
The emergency hit at 4:42 p.m. A cardiac case with numbers diving faster than my patience. By protocol, I should’ve stayed. By instinct, I wanted to run.
Eli would be home alone. Watching the clock, no doubt.
I tried to delegate. Tried to peel myself out of the room twice. Both times, the universe saidcuteand dragged me back.
By the time we stabilized the patient, it was 6:31, and my phone had four missed texts.
You okay?
Just checking.
Please tell me you’re on your way.
Adrian?
My pulse dipped. A guilt bomb exploded in my chest.
I called, but it went straight to voicemail.
Eli must’ve muted his phone and turned it over, screen down—his version of white-flag surrender.
The drive home was a blur of red lights I absolutely obeyed but mentally cursed at. When I opened the door, the air felt… wrong.
Still and quiet and accusingly empty.
Eli stood in the kitchen, back rigid, one hand braced on the counter like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Music played low from the speaker—cheerful, upbeat, defiantly normal. The kind of soundtrack people used to scare away ghosts.
He didn’t turn.
Didn’t greet me.
Didn’t breathe
“Eli,” I said softly.
His shoulders tensed. He set the knife down a little too carefully.
“You’re late.”
Two words. Thin as a thread. Stretched to breaking.
“I know,” I said. “There was an emergency. A real one. I got stuck.”
“You said you wouldn’t stay late.” His voice was calm. Terrifyingly calm. “You promised.”
My stomach twisted. “I know. I tried to leave.”
“Tried.” He let out a brittle laugh. “Right.”
