From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 463

Chapter 463

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, covering my face. “I’m so sorry. I’m just…

I’m so overwhelmed and tired and angry. Everything feels like it’s

slipping out of my hands. Everything is going wrong too fast.”

She reached over and squeezed my arm. “I know.”

The room fell quiet again. She didn’t say another word. Only the

sound of my cries was heard loudly.

Then my phone rang.

I immediately lunged for it before I even checked the screen. Reese.

My heart started racing instantly.

“Hello?” I barely recognized my own voice.

“The results are out,” he said.

Everything in me went still.

“I’m putting it on speaker,” he continued. “You’ll hear directly from

the doctor. Is that okay?”

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“Yes,” I said quickly. “Please.”

A moment later, a new voice came through. “Good evening, madam. I

am Doctor Benjamin.”

I glanced at River, who hadn’t taken her eyes off me. “Good evening,”

I said. “I’m Savannah.”

There were no pleasantries after that. No small talk. No easing me

into it.

And that was the first sign something was wrong.

“We ran a toxicology screen on Roman’s blood,” the doctor said.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

“And?” I asked.

There was a pause. Just one second. But God, it felt endless.

“And we found traces of a sedative that was clearly not prescribed to

him.”

The room tilted.

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“A sedative?” I repeated faintly.

“Yes. A benzodiazepine. Midazolam, to be precise.”

The word meant nothing. But the tone did. I even had no idea that

there were drugs bearing those names.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It is a drug used to keep patients sedated. To suppress

consciousness. To slow brain activity.”

Cold spread through my chest.

“So the injection…” I whispered. “It wasn’t medicine.”

“It was medicine,” he said gently. “Just not medicine that should have

been given to Roman.”

My breathing went shallow. “What does it do? What will it do to

Roman?” I asked again as if he hadn’t said it before.

“In low doses, it calms patients. In repeated doses, it keeps them

unconscious. It suppresses the part of the brain responsible for

waking up.”

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I stared at Roman.

“You’re saying…” My voice broke. “You’re saying someone was

keeping him asleep.”

“Yes.”

The word echoed in my skull. Not an accident. Not his injury. Someone

working behind the scenes.

“And the slowing down?” I asked. “The recovery?”

“Repeated administration can slow neurological recovery

significantly.”

Tears spilled over. “So that’s why,” I whispered. “That’s why he hasn’t

woken up.”

“It is very likely,” the doctor said. “The drug delayed him. It did not

damage him–but it delayed him.”

My hand flew to my mouth. “How long?” I asked. “How long has this

been happening?”

“At least several days. Possibly shorter.”

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My legs went weak. “And if it hadn’t stopped?” I asked.

There was a long silence. “He could have remained unconscious

indefinitely.”

Indefinitely. The word crushed the air out of my lungs.

“He wasn’t meant to die,” I said numbly.

“No,” the doctor replied. “He was meant to remain asleep.”

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