𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

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SAN JOSE HOSPITAL, CALI

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SAN JOSE HOSPITAL, CALI.

Seven hours.

Seven fucking hours.

Four hundred and Twenty minutes.

That's how long I've been waiting. Miguel and Esme left at one this morning, but I stayed. My body couldn't bring itself to leave; my mind wouldn't allow me peace. All I can think about is her blood on my hands. She pushed me out of the way and took a bullet for me. And now... now she's fighting for her life.

It was my fault. All of it was my fault.

This hospital smell is starting to make me gag. And these annoying ass doctors bout to piss me off too. I hung my head low, sighing deeply.

A presence lingers in front of me, but I don't bother to look up. " You look like shit." The voice snorted.

I don't say anything.

" How long have you been here?"

Again, I don't say anything.

Malea sighs, " Okay, don't talk to me. That's cool too,"

She sits beside me on the vacant spot of the couch. She bumps my shoulder, "Traffic was a pain the ass. I hated it every moment of it."

" What do you want, Lea?" I grunt.

She bumps my shoulder, " Come on, don't be like that. I'm your little sister, you know."

I scoffed, " Yeah, Ion think I forgot bout that."

" Donnie-"

" Aren't you supposed to be in Atlanta wit your girlfriend?"

She smacks her lips, " Stop changing the subject."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, " Malea-"

" Look I get that you're worried about 'Phesian but she'll be okay-"

" You don't know that." I gritted, glaring in her direction.

she's taken aback by my harsh tone, so I look away. Allat shit about ' she's gonna be okay,' and ' she'll make it through this' is just another example of denial. She grabs my hand, but I shrug her off. I didn't want to be touched. Nor did I want someone talkin to me. I was on the brink of collapsing. And it was taking everything in me not to go back there and black out.

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