“I have him,” I whispered, though my own heart was hammering against my ribs.

She injected the second dose directly into the intravenous port she had quickly established.

For a terrifying five seconds, Alexander stopped moving entirely.

His chest fell, and he did not draw another breath.

The silence in the room was absolute, save for the heavy patter of the rain against the glass.

“Elaine?” Marcus whispered, his voice losing its usual composure.

Dr. Voss kept her fingers pressed to Alexander’s neck, her eyes fixed on her watch.

“Wait,” she said.

The silence stretched, suffocating and heavy.

Then, Alexander gasped, a violent, rattling sound that shook his entire frame.

His chest rose sharply, and a faint flush of color returned to his hollow cheeks.

His breathing remained shallow, but the violent shivering began to subside.

Dr. Voss let out a breath she had been holding.

“The immediate danger of cardiac arrest has passed,” she said, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “But his organs are still under immense stress. We need to monitor his vitals every ten minutes.”