Chapter 15

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Alyssa

Miranda's shaky hands were lightly touching Chris face. She brought her blood-covered hands to her face in horror. Chris shook his head, refusing to tell her what had happened.

"Chris you're so hurt, please let us take you to the hospital. Alicia, convince him!"

My mom looked at her quietly. "Chris, let us take you to the hospital." She softly said,

Chris stared at my mom trying to steady his breathing.

He struggled to shift, letting out let out a deep scream. Miranda shuddered, crying even harder.

"I'll take him." I piped up.

Their eyes turned in my direction.

"Mom, keep Miranda here. Calm her down and I'll take Chris." I elaborated.

My mom nodded trying to pull Miranda up.

"No! Look at him! We need to call an ambulance!" she cried.

"It's okay. Alyssa can handle this. We'll go to the hospital in a moment. Come into the kitchen and have some tea."

My mom dragged her into the other room so I could go to Chris' side. "What happened?" I asked, lightly touching his ribs.

He winced as he stifled another groan, continuing to breathe unsteadily.

"Daniel assigned m-me to," he squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in.

"Let me take you to the hospital, and then you tell me."

He managed a small nod. My mom held Miranda back: who was breaking into her trademark hysterics.

I leaned all of Chris' weight on me as I led him out to my car. His legs were weakening every second. I managed to get him to lie down in the backseat then rounded to the driver's seat. My mom hurried out of the house meeting me at the window.

"Make sure he's taken care of before we get there." She said to me.

"Are you going to tell her the truth?" I asked.

"...No, she'd have a heart attack."

She ran back into the house before Miranda found the glassware.

I pulled away from the curb towards Masterson Memorial Hospital. My voice shook as I asked Siri to call Lydia. Chris was near tears in the back seat listening to me tell her what was happening. I turned onto the freeway ending the call and glanced at him through the rearview. He was clutching his leg, trying to suppress the bleeding though it was beginning to cake and stick to his skin. I pulled into the emergency entrance with paramedics rushing forth as I herded them to the backseat. Chris was placed onto a gurney before being hurried into the hospital. I ran in behind them, ignoring the clerk calling out for me to stop.

They pushed him through wide double doors where a doctor emerged, putting his hand up to stop me.

"Who are you, Miss?" he asked.

"Agent 96," I answered, trying to peek over his shoulder.

"Yes ma'am, and who is he to you?"

"My brother: Agent 93."

He nodded, looking down at his clipboard before he asked, "Is he allergic to anything?"

"No."

"Okay, we're going to help him to the best of our ability."

He placed a surgical mask over his face and headed down the hallway. I slowly walked to the waiting room texting my mom that he was going into surgery. She wanted to keep Miranda at home until after Chris was placed in a room so we could figure out how to hide the suspicious injuries. Already I was thinking of saying a car, or something hit him. An hour and a half later, the doctor, found me sitting in the waiting area and told me I could go in and see Chris. My stomach was twisting in knots and nausea. Doctors couldn't always save you. The doctor stopped at a door picking up the clipboard hanging on the wall.

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