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... d. My legs turned to water, the cane slipping from my numb fingers as I collapsed. I didn’t hit the floor; Elena caught me, her small but strong frame bracing mine as she guided me back onto the pillows.

​"Easy, Alpha," she whispered, her voice no longer high-pitched and dramatic, but steady and professional.

​She immediately reached for the pulse oximeter on the nightstand, sliding it onto my finger while she checked the flow of the IV. Elena was a palliative care nurse I’d hire ...

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