Chapter 22

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My lungs sucked in as much air as possible to fill their capacity, seeing as I hadn't spared a second to breathe. Calvin was first to catch up to me, eyes wide as I came to an abrupt stop and turned to face him.

Bianca came up to us, panting heavily as her jog came to a stop. Her hand clutched her heart  while she tried to regain her breath, and her eyes soaked in appearance.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Calvin asked quietly, wiping at my tears. "Who was on the phone? What's going on?"

"I-its Scott. H-he's at the hospital. I really need to go." I panted, struggling to free my hand from Calvin's tight grip. Bianca's face visibly paled, and she bit her lip lightly.

"Want us to come?"

"N-no, no. Just no," I mumbled, running my fingers through my hair.

They nodded lightly in understanding, and my hand was finally released. But when he did leave me, I was too scared to move. Fear gripped me, and I stood in the spot I was in, too scared to get into that car and drive to a hospital to see my brother possibly dying.

Calvin pressed a light kiss to my forehead, nodding towards the car to encourage me to go. They staggered back slightly to give me space to move, and I caught sight of the one person other than these two that could give me the type of comfort I needed.

His emerald eyes shyly looked up at me from the ground, eyes filled with sadness as he took in my expression.

"P-please," I sobbed, my eyes were filled with tears as I beckoned him to me with the one worded plea. Instantly, Harry was by my side. His arms wrapped around my waist, and my arms wound around his neck, tugging him impossibly close to me.

This wasn't me. I was usually strong and so composed, but this was Scott. This was my brother, my best friend, my boyfriend, and most importantly, this was my father. He'd been the one to take care of me, bringing me up  as though he was an adult with a perfect life, absolutely composed in his ways.

Harry whispered softly in my ear, his fingers softly combing through my hair as he assured me that it would be okay.

"Amelia, maybe we should get going?" Harry whispered unsurely, lifting my chin to look up at him. I looked away, not wanting anyone to see me so broken. I nuzzled my head into his hoodie-clad chest one last time, releasing a sigh when I received a soft kiss to my forehead.

My rushed actions from earlier had returned, and I nodded at Bianca when she said they'd come by later that evening. I frantically ushered the car into drive, biting my lip to stop my sobs from escaping. Harry sucked in a breath when I took a particularly sharp curve as I drove like I didn't have a head to the hospital the lady had told me to come to.

What if this was a prank?

My eyes brimmed with tears, and as much as I tried to blink them back, they welled up in my eyes again. I thought I was going to get us killed. But Harry's reassuring grip on my hand, his thumb softly stroking the back of my hand, and the way he entwined our fingers together perfectly was the only thing keeping me going. His feathery kiss to my knuckles was the only thing that told me it was going to be okay, everything would be fine.


I heard Harry's footsteps right behind me as we sprinted into the sickening building. I despised hospitals. They smelt like crying children and death. I frowned as the woman at the counter asked me to repeat what I'd just said, my patience was wearing thin as I spoke again, only for her frown to deepen.

Harry's kiss pressed to my shoulder blade, asking me to have another go as his arms held my small body, shielding me from the impending pain.

"Oh," The lady mumbled,"Yes. Are you relatives?" She asked quietly, pity clear in her eyes as she watched me.

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