The sun’s going down as I wander into the kitchen, looking for a snack. I open the fridge, rooting around in there for a bit: some salami, a few tubs of yogurt, about twenty apples.

I guess Bianca wasn’t kidding when she said she really liked apples.

“Have you seen Bianca?” Kieran asks, wandering in as well. He looks over my shoulder into the fridge while the two of us both try to find a snack.

“Not a for a while,” I say. “I think she was gonna go read.”

“Hmm,” Kieran says, but something in his voice worries me, and suddenly I’m trying to remember the last time I did see Bianca.

Is she in trouble? Something dangerous?

Normally I wouldn’t be concerned about an adult woman being alone for a few hours, but these aren’t exactly normal circumstances.

I shut the fridge, and I’m met with Kieran’s frown.

“I’ll go see what she’s up to,” I say, forcing my voice to stay calm. “She said she’d make dinner tonight, right?”

“Right,” Kieran echoes, the scowl even in his voice.

It’s fine, I tell myself as I walk out of the kitchen and into the hallway, past the living room.

She just got lost in a book. It happens.

She’s not in her bedroom or either of ours. The bathrooms are all empty, and when I peek outside, she’s not there either.

The door to the study is nearly shut, the lights inside on. My heart is thudding at my ribcage as I push it open, praying that she’s inside because if she’s not here, she’s gone.

But there she is, curled up sideways in her favorite reading chair. The book has crumpled a little in her lap, closing on itself. She’s probably lost her place.

“Hey, Bianca,” I say gently.

She doesn’t wake up. I guess she’s tired, so I shrug, starting to close the door.

“Wait,” Kieran says, his voice low and dark.

Adrenaline sizzles through my veins again, and I glance at him, then at her.

And I start to realize: something’s wrong. I don’t know what, but the longer I look at Bianca, the more the feeling grows that she’s not just asleep, she’s out.

“Bianca,” Kieran growls, his voice low and gravelly.

He strides across the room, his foot accidentally kicking a half-eaten apple.

“Bianca. Wake up,” he gruffs, grabbing her by the shoulder and shaking her.

The books falls from her lap and her head lolls at a strange angle. In half a second I’m there, fingers pressed to her neck as I feel for a pulse, Kieran’s face next to her mouth.

I’m terrified. I feel like I’m falling down a bottomless pit, my body wheeling freely, more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life as I wait the milliseconds for a heartbeat, praying to any god who’ll listen that she has one.

It feels like I wait a hundred long years, the world fizzling in front of my eyes, spinning out of control.

No. No, not her. Take me instead, take both of us.

Just not Bianca.

And then, at last, there it is: one thump of her jugular vein, slow and sluggish but there.

She’s alive.

“Breathing,” Kieran growls.

“We’ve gotta get her to town,” I say, standing. I’m still nauseous, still feel like I’m falling down that endless pit, but she’s alive. That’s step one, at least, the first of a hundred steps to get her help, get her out of here because we’ve failed her, somehow, Kieran and I tried, and we fucked this up—

“Come on,” Kieran barks, and I slide my arms underneath Bianca’s limp form, lifting her body in my hands.

“Grab that apple,” I say as I carry her out, the words an afterthought. But somewhere deep down, I know that that’s the only thing in here that doesn’t fit, the only odd piece to this puzzle.

We head to the Jeep without talking. We’re not even wearing shoes or coats, just t-shirts and sweatpants, but neither of us gives a shit. I get into the back seat with Bianca, resting her head on my lap, stroking her hair. Kieran gets into the driver’s seat and half a second later we’re tearing down the bumpy dirt road in the dark.

I hold her close, absolutely fucking terrified. I don’t know what happened and I don’t know how to fix it.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry we fucked up, I’m sorry we didn’t protect you, I’m sorry...”

I squeeze her closer, even as we fly over a huge rut, Kieran’s hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry for everything,” I whisper. “I love you, Bianca.”

Kieran’s eyes flash in the rearview mirror, full of pain and regret and torment.

“We love you,” I correct myself.

* * *

There’s no hospital in Inversberg. It’s far too small, so we just drive onto the cobblestone street in front of the first open store we find, and Kieran sprints inside without bothering to turn off the car while I just sit in the back seat, holding Bianca.

I feel powerless, more powerless than I ever have before. I don’t even know what’s wrong with her, what’s happened, or how to fix it.

I just keep telling her unconscious form, over and over again, that we love her.

Moments later, Kieran sprints back out.

“The shop owner’s called the town doctor,” he says, his voice tight and panicked as he smooths one hand over Bianca’s hair.

I notice he’s shaking. I notice I’m shaking, and for a split second we lock eyes, both acknowledging the shared emotion between us.

“He’s also calling the hospital so they can send an ambulance, but... it could be a while,” he says, his voice nearly breaking.

“It’s already been a while,” I whisper.

Kieran doesn’t answer. We both just sit there, both silently praying on our own.

Soon, the doctor comes, and then everything is pandemonium. He has us bring her out of the car, lay her down on the cobblestones, head back. He quizzes us endlessly about what she’s done that day, what she ate, what she did, what book she was reading, but he doesn’t have answers either.

A small crowd gathers. Bianca’s still breathing, her heart still beating, but nothing has changed. She’s not waking up. She only seems half-alive, her heart beating glacially slow, like she’s been put in suspended animation.

Suddenly, there’s a whirring noise above us, a breeze stirring our hair, and I look up to see a helicopter. I don’t even process it at first, not until it disappears behind a building and the town doctor stands, snapping his bag shut.

“Come on!” he shouts.

I pick her up again. Follow him, feeling empty and hollow, to a clearing a few blocks away where there’s a stretcher waiting outside a medical helicopter.

Reality suddenly snaps back as the paramedics run toward us, full tilt, and suddenly I’m alive again. I put her on the stretcher, help buckle her in, stroke her hair, help push her back because this I’ve done before. Never with the girl I love, but I’ve been in this scenario.

Behind me, Kieran is giving someone the rundown of everything that happened today in short, clipped sentences as the woman nods, taking notes on a pad.

Finally, she’s strapped into the helicopter, and the blades start turning again. The paramedics duck their heads and run back, but at the last second, Kieran runs after them.

“WAIT!” he screams, waving his arms.

From the helicopter, one turns.

“SHE ATE THIS!” he shouts at the top of his lungs, handing over Bianca’s half-eaten apple. It’s a wreck by now, but the paramedic nods, taking it in one gloved hand.

Kieran steps back. The helicopter doors shut.

It lifts away, Bianca inside. I know she’s in better hands than ours now. I know that if she’s going to have a chance, it’s with them, at a hospital, not with us.

But I can’t help but feel as though something’s breaking inside me, splintering apart as I watch her leave without knowing if we’ll ever see her again.

The helicopter disappears over the trees. Kieran turns to me, face ashen and grim.

“Come on,” he says. “We’re going to the hospital.”