chapter thirty

Ethan's mind raced as he felt the warmth of Doctor Whitmore's lips against his. Her kiss was soft yet desperate, like she was trying to convey all the emotions she couldn’t express in words. For a moment, Ethan allowed himself to get lost in that touch, in the idea that maybe, just maybe, someone could accept him for who he had become. But then the reality of their situation crashed back down on him.

Ethan gently pulled away from the kiss, his blue eyes searching Whitmore's face. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. "Why do you care if I stay or go? The rest of them want me out. Even Rachel can't look at me. You should hate me too."

Doctor Whitmore took a step back, her eyes flickering with something Ethan couldn't quite place—hope, maybe, or determination. "I don’t hate you, Ethan," she said softly. "I can't speak for the others, but I've seen what you're capable of. I've seen you fight for this community, save people when no one else could. I don't kn