I crossed my fingers behind my back, muttering under my breath as I lunged for the phone on the nightstand, nearly knocking over the forgotten tub of ice cream in my haste. "Please, let it be the publishing company I reached out to yesterday," I called out, my voice laced with desperate optimism, the kind that had been in short supply lately.
"Good luck!" Suzette chimed back from her perch on the bed, her tone teasing but supportive, as she watched me with a mix of amusement and sympathy.
Snatching the phone, I flipped it over to check the caller ID, my heart doing a little flip in anticipation. But the name flashing on the screen crushed that fragile hope like a popped balloon. I frowned, the annoyance twisting in my gut—why now, of all times? "It's my mom," I said, shooting Suzette a look that screamed not again.
She raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, curiosity piqued. "What does she need this time?" There was a hint of wariness in her voice; she knew my family dynamics all too well, the endless cycle of demands and drama that always seemed to pull me under.
I shrugged, the motion helpless and resigned, before swiping to answer and pressing the phone to my ear. "Hello?" The conversation was short—too short, really—my mom's words tumbling out in a frantic rush that left me reeling. When I finally hung up, my hand lingered on the device for a beat, as if I could will the news away.
Suzette's brow furrowed in confusion, her playful demeanor evaporating. "Is everything okay?" she asked, sliding off the bed to stand beside me, her hand hovering near my arm like she was ready to catch me if I fell.
Propelling me to my feet in one swift motion, I was already halfway to the closet, yanking out jeans and a hoodie. "Family emergency," I said, my voice tight, the words tasting like ash. "I need to go to Haven's Hospital."
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
I remained calm, even taking my time to drive to the hospital. It didn't matter to me what happened to her—I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with the baby.
When I arrived, I approached the nurses' station. "Excuse me, could you tell me which room Navira Slade is in? She was rushed here this morning."
The nurse glanced up from her computer and typed a few keys. "What's your relationship to the patient?"
"She's my sister. My name's Novaria Santiago," I replied evenly.
She entered something else into the system, then nodded. "She's in Room 145. Your other family members are already there waiting."
I gave her a small smile and murmured my thanks.
As I neared the room, I spotted Mom pacing anxiously in the hallway just outside the door. "Nova!" she called when she saw me.
"What really happened, Mom? All I heard from the call was that Navira had been rushed here," I said, keeping my voice steady.
"Hunter called us this morning. He said Navi woke up screaming in pain, and he had to rush her straight to the ER. The doctors..." Her voice cracked, and she broke down in tears. "I don't even know what they're saying—it's all so confusing."
I hated Navira, but a child was innocent; my grudge had nothing to do with the baby.
"Where are the others?" I asked gently.
"They're inside. Come on, let's go in," she said, wiping her eyes as she pushed open the door.
When I stepped into the room, I saw Navira lying pale and fragile in the hospital bed, tears streaming down her face as she clung to Hunter's hand. He looked just as wrecked—frustrated, helpless, his jaw clenched in barely contained pain. I felt nothing, not a flicker of sympathy. Dad glanced up from his chair by the window, his eyes lighting up with relief. "Nova!" he called, standing to pull me into a quick hug.
Everyone's attention snapped to me in that instant—Hunter, Navira, Caleb, and Carter, all frozen in their worry. But I stayed rooted in place, my gaze fixed on her. "Are you okay, Navira?" I asked, my voice flat.
"I'm in so much pain, Nova," she sobbed, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "It hurts so much! Please, Nova, help me—I don't want to lose my baby. I love this baby more than anything. I'm so sorry for everything... please, I can't lose my baby..."
I opened my mouth to respond, but the door swung open again, and the doctor strode in, his expression all business. "We need to attend to her now," he said firmly, addressing the room. "Everyone, please step outside and wait in the hall."
I stayed silent, my expression unchanging as I turned toward the doctor. Avoiding Navira's pleading gaze, I slipped behind Carter and followed the others out into the hallway, the weight of the room's tension lingering like a fog.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Hunter stepping forward, his voice rough with desperation. "Doctor, can I stay with her? She's my wife—I need to be there."
"Mr. Slade," the doctor replied evenly, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder, "it's best if you step outside. We'll do everything we can to ensure your wife and the baby are stable. The chances are slim, but we're exhausting every medical option available."
Hunter hesitated, his shoulders slumping in defeat, before nodding and joining us. The door clicked shut behind him, and almost immediately, the curtains over the window were drawn tight, sealing us out.
I settled onto the bench beside Carter, the hard plastic cool against my back as the hallway's fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead. Our parents—Heather and Alfred—clung to each other a few feet away, their arms wrapped tightly in mutual comfort, faces etched with exhaustion. Caleb was off to the side, murmuring urgently into his phone about some work crisis that couldn't wait, his free hand rubbing his temple. Hunter, meanwhile, prowled the corridor like a caged animal, his steps heavy and restless, fists clenched at his sides.
Seconds bled into minutes, and those minutes dragged into hours. It was exactly three hours later, marked by the clock on the wall ticking mercilessly, when the door to Room 145 finally swung open. The doctor emerged first, flanked by a trio of nurses, their scrubs rumpled from the ordeal.
Hunter bolted forward at the sight of them, his voice cracking with raw urgency. "Doctor, how... how is my wife?"
The doctor peeled off his mask with a weary sigh, handing it to one of the nurses with a subtle nod, signaling them to proceed without him. He met Hunter's eyes steadily, his tone laced with regret. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Slade. We lost the baby. However, your wife is stable and alive—she's currently unconscious but should wake up within the hour."
I watched the doctor turn and walk away down the hall, his footsteps echoing softly, as Hunter's legs buckled beneath him. He collapsed to his knees right there beside our parents, a guttural sob escaping his throat.
Heather and Alfred moved quickly, each taking one of Hunter's arms to help him to his feet, their own eyes brimming with unshed tears. Together, they guided him back into the room, the door easing shut behind them. Carter shifted beside me, giving my elbow a gentle nudge. "Shall we go inside?" he asked quietly.
I nodded, rising with him as we followed, Caleb pocketing his phone and trailing close behind. By the time we entered, Navira was awake, propped up slightly against the pillows, her face a mask of devastation. It was clear Hunter and our parents had already broken the news; she was crying uncontrollably, her body shaking with wrenching sobs that filled the room. Hunter sat on the edge of the bed, his hand stroking her hair, murmuring soft reassurances, but she shoved him away weakly, lost in her grief.
All of a sudden, Navira's frustrated, teary eyes lifted to meet mine, locking on with a deadly intensity—raw anger and hatred burning through the grief, as if I were the sole architect of her pain.
It all happened so fast.
Before anyone could process it, she snatched a small vase from the bedside drawer and hurled it straight at me, the porcelain whistling through the air.
I reacted on instinct, twisting my body a split second to the side, dodging the full impact. But the vase shattered against the wall inches from my face, sending sharp shards flying. One sliced across my cheek, a stinging line of fire that immediately welled with blood, warm and trickling down my skin.
I stood there, dumbstruck, my hand rising slowly to touch the cut as shock rooted me in place. Words wouldn't come.
"What the fuck was that, Navira?!" Carter exploded, his voice booming through the room as he lunged forward to pull me into a protective hug, his arm tight around my shoulders.
Yeah, what the fuck was that for? I thought, my mind reeling in disbelief.