He stepped into the room, his heart pounding—not just with relief, but with something warmer, something like joy. It felt as though he had just gotten back the most important thing in his life.
"Champion… are you alright?" he asked softly, moving closer to her bed.
"Yeah… I'm fine," she replied, her voice still weak. "How did I get here?"
"You were in an accident—with my car," he explained, pulling up a chair beside her. "I brought you here myself. How are you feeling now?"
"I'm fine now…" she began, then her expression darkened. "They came here. If not today, they will definitely come again."
His brows knit together. "Who are they? They came here and tried to kill you—tell me who they are."
"They're… no one," she said quickly, turning her face away. "Just forget about them."
"Forget about them?" His voice rose, anger flaring. "Do you really think I'll let it go? They tried to murder you today, and you expect me to just forget?"
She hesitated, then smiled faintly, reaching for the badge on her bedside table. "Oh… here. Take it back. And… thank you."
"Are you serious? You're changing the subject again?" he said, exasperated. "Fine—if you don't want to tell me, I won't force you. But remember this—I will never do anything to harm you. Friends?" He extended his hand toward her.
She studied him for a moment before her lips curved into a smile. "Okay… friends."
Their hands met, a silent promise passing between them.