Other nurses drifted by, some curious, others skeptical. “He hasn’t moved?” someone asked. “Not once in six hours,” Elena replied. “He’s her anchor.” One young resident grinned. “That dog’s got better ICU discipline than me.” Elena smiled tiredly. “He’s on night watch.” Valorian blinked slowly, as if accepting his post unceremoniously.
By morning, the ER smelled of coffee and disinfectant, instead of rain and mud. A pair of detectives arrived, notebooks ready, eyes tired but kind. They took in the scene of the girl asleep under white sheets and the silent mastiff by the glass. They exchanged the look people wear when they know this story will follow them home.