Chapter five

After her visit to the morgue, Shorty lost it. The nurses had to sedate her again when she woke up screaming. As soon as I was forced out of Sadie's room, I plopped my ass on one of the chairs outside her room and laid my head back against the wall, closing my eyes and trying to drown out the heart-wrenching screams coming from my best friend.

How the fuck did we get here?

First, Sadie endured years of abuse from her own father, along with an ex who kidnapped her and left her for dead—again. And to add the cherry on top, her father loses his shit, and stabs her mother nearly to death, leading to his son taking him out like the rabid dog he was.

And now, her brother is dead.

My best friend—my girl — lies in a hospital bed not only trying to heal from the physical scars, but the mental and emotional damage that won't ever fully heal.

The constant beeping of monitors, voices through the intercoms, nurses' annoying laughs as they gather around the nurses' station, carts fumbling down the halls, sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor, makes me want to stab my ear drums.

When I open my eyes, the fluorescent lights give me a fucking migraine.

I can't believe her brother is gone.

This is going to put her over the edge. There may be no hope of bringing her back.

God. I hope I'm wrong.

If Sadie loses anyone else, her soul will rip into a billion pieces and get lost in the void where no one will be able to bring her back to life.

I can't handle hearing the grief-stricken screams anymore. I jump up from the chair and jog until I reach the elevator. I start pressing the buttons impatiently, but the doors won't fucking open.

Fuck this. I'm taking the stairs.

I run down a few flights of stairs to the ground floor. I bust the steel exit doors wide open and breathe in the cold air, trying to catch my breath.

All the strength I carried for Sadie finally comes crumbling down. I fall to my knees, heaving, and let out an ugly cry.