Liliana Pierce stared at the lab results in her hands. The numbers couldn't be right. She checked them again, her medical training kicking in as she reviewed the critical values highlighted in red.
Hemoglobin: 5.2 g/dL
Ferritin: 3 ng/mL
The paper trembled in her fingers. These weren't just low numbers—they were life-threatening. A healthy woman should have hemoglobin levels above 12. Lyra's iron stores were practically nonexistent.
"This can't be right," she whispered.
But it was. The lab had run the test twice to confirm.
Liliana's chest tightened as the realization hit her. Lyra hadn't been faking. She hadn't been exaggerating. She'd been dying right in front of them, and Liliana had refused to see it.
She walked back to the trauma room in a daze. Captain Vance was arguing with Dorian Cross outside the door, his voice rising with each word.
"This changes nothing! She still assaulted her mother, and now there's the matter of Covington pulling a gun—"
