49| Shattered

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Chapter 49: Shattered (Clara's POV)

Where in fuck's name am I?

I slowly opened my eyes, blinded by the white fluorescent lights above my head, which seemed even bright amidst the white walls. I looked at my left hand, observing the IV drip and then the heart monitor that was beeping steadily. I closed my eyes again, taking a deeper breath. "Callum," I mumbled. I opened my eyes, realizing that Wyatt was sitting right beside me. 

"You're awake," he let out a huge sigh of relief. I frowned in confusion. "You're in the hospital. Your dad and Daisy just went back home, they'll be back later, don't worry. How do you feel?" 

"Like shit," I croaked. "Everything hurts." 

"You're healed. It'll stop hurting, give it a few minutes." 

I squinted at the ceiling, trying to remember what happened. Trying to remember all of it. 

"Don't try to remember so hard. Talk through it." He shrugged. "What's the last thing you remember?" 

"Seeing Callum." 

"When he came in?" 

I shook my head softly, touching it as it started pounding. "When I was being carried out. I remember bits and pieces. Being taken, tortured, Callum running in, a gun going off, I—" 

"Hey, hey, hey, relax. Relax, let's take it slow. You've been out like a light for three days. Let it come back slowly." 

"I've been... sleeping for three days?" 

He nodded. "You almost went into a coma, but you're okay," he said. I could see that he was trying to smile, perhaps to make me feel better. But it was a sad one. 

"Where is everyone?" 

"Your dad just went home to freshen up, Daisy went back to her place. I'm here. Atticus is... dead. His friends are in police custody. The principal and Nora are handling it. They found footage from the auditorium." 

"And Callum?" 

He couldn't meet my eyes. I sat upright, suddenly losing all the pain in every inch of my body. 

"Where's Callum? Is he okay? Did he make it?" I asked, my eyes tearing up all over again. 

"Don't cry, you'll start losing oxygen again. It happened a bunch of times. You've started crying in your sleep like you're having a nightmare and then you can't breathe and no one can wake you up." 

I took a few deep breaths, trying to stay calm. 

"He's alive. He made it." 

I let out a huge sigh of relief. 

"But he's in a coma too." 

My heart fell. "What happened to him?" My voice cracked and the tears fell out before I knew it. 

"He was stabbed a few times and he got shot in the back. Somehow, the bullet went through and got lodged in the left ventricle of his heart. He wasn't responding at first," Wyatt sniffled, wiping the corners of his eyes. "He flatlined on seven different occasions. He was sent to surgery right away, so were you. You came out within an hour. He was there for six." His tears fell, rolling down his cheeks. "They don't know when he'll wake up. There's a chance he won't remember all of it. But it'll come back to him slowly in bits and pieces." He took a shaky breath, composing himself again. "He'll be okay. He has to be." 

I stared at my hands that rested in my lap, my shoulders shaking while I silently cried. 

"Apart from the bullet, you came in way worse condition. Your rib was fractured, you were stabbed and cut with at least fourteen different wounds. But you healed." 

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