7 Minutes in Heaven Chapter 19

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Not too much Jemma and Nate but hope you like it! (Not proofread, as always)

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I could hardly remember the events of the preceding night. The  last thing I could recollect was, my grandma’s dead, cold, lifeless body; me sprinting to the elevator, full-out crying in Nate’s arms, getting stuck in the elevator, and falling asleep. I was too tired, to exhausted to remember the details in between consciousness and sleep. Everything was a blur, too fast and sudden for me to get a grasp on anything.

However, I was no longer in that jammed elevator in the hospital. Rather I was lying under the covers in my bed. The beaming morning rays of the sun welcomed me as I slipped into reality. A silhouette sat in between my bedside and the window. I focused my eyes to see a restless Emmett.

The dark circles under his eyes remained existent, his face still flushed of all color. My brother’s hair was a complete mess, and I wondered if he ever got any sleep back in the hospital last night. I highly doubted.

Emmett’s hand reached out to stroke my hair. “How’re you feeling?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

I shrugged and answered flatly, “Crappy.” The corner of his lips twitched up into a smile, but it only lasted a fraction of a second. When I noticed that slight frown on his face, I thought it was over the loss of Grandma. But that wasn’t the only thing. “What’s wrong?”

He heaved a tired, agitated sigh. “I saw you in that elevator with Nate.” My brows rose, eyes widened, and I immediately shot out of bed.

“Em, I can explain”—

“I thought I told him to stay away from you! But no, his persistent ass keeps him from understanding anything! He’s just lucky I didn’t beat the crap out of him.” His voice was deadly cold, and it scared me.

I argued, “Nate was as close to Grandma as we were!”

He scoffed. “Yeah right,” he responded condescendingly.

“He was the guy Grandma told us about. You know…the one who’s living on his own—the one she’s supported.”

Emmett rolled his eyes doubtfully, but I could see the skepticism to argue with me. Instead, he asked, “Where’d you hear this from?”

“Nate.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Obviously,” he huffed, “now when’d you hear this from?”

“Yesterday,” I answered firmly.

He raised a brow, still suspicious as he continued to interrogate, “Where?”

“Hospital,” I lied. Thankfully my voice wasn’t shaking, and I wasn’t giving away my lie. I explained to Emmett, carrying on with my deception, “He came to the room last night, and”—

“I thought only direct family can visit,” he interrupted crossly.

“It’s Nate Stanford.”

He smirked. “Very true,” he agreed in a light voice. “Carry on.”

“Well,” I began slowly, “the doctor asked who he was, and he said he was Grandma’s next-door neighbor; he said he was treated like family, and was supported by her.”

Though Emmett was skeptical, he still found reason to argue. “Anyone could lie easily by saying that.”

“But wouldn’t it be too much of a coincidence then?” I snapped. He understood my point and shut up.

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