Hex POV
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and fear. I hated it immediately. Every hard, metallic scent, every fluorescent light bouncing off the polished floor—it all screamed wrong, dangerous, final. I perched on the edge of a plastic chair, knees pulled up, mask dangling from one ear. My hands were shaking, but I didn't notice. I couldn't.
I tried to breathe, tried to make sense of what had happened, but my mind kept going back to one moment: the first time I met Aunty Kathrine. I had been nine, unsure, scared, new to this strange world of Jay-Jay and all these people. And she had knelt down, looked me square in the eyes, and said, "Hex, you're safe here. You're welcome." Her hands were warm, and for a second, the chaos in my mind stopped. I had felt… home.
And now… I wasn't home. Not really. Because she was out there, somewhere beyond those double doors, and I couldn't reach her.
I tried to picture her in my mind, like I always did—her laugh echoing through the kitchen, her soft voice correcting my clumsy attempts at stirring the spaghetti, the way she made me feel brave even when I was scared. I could see her grin at me when I had accidentally flopped on the skateboard, the sparkle in her eyes when she teased me about spilling juice on the carpet. All the small things I'd tried to memorize over three years, all the tiny, precious details… and now they were just memories.
The footsteps came. I heard them before I saw the doctor, my stomach dropping. The man walked toward us with that calm, professional expression. Calm. Too calm. I hated calm right now.
"She didn't make it," the doctor said. My stomach lurched. I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch something. My fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. But my body wouldn't obey. I couldn't scream. I could barely breathe.
My mind went blank for a second. No. No. Not her. She can't be gone.
I pressed my face into my knees. I wanted to cry. I needed to cry. But I wasn't good at crying. Not like this. Not with so much weight, so much pain, so much… unfairness.
I could hear Jay-Jay somewhere across the room, quiet sobs, and Percy stiff and tense, fists balled at his sides. Keifer pacing, trying to keep himself together. The Section E boys huddled near Aries, faces grim. And me… I just sat there, shaking, letting the grief take over.
I remembered the afternoons when she had just… listened. No advice, no scolding, just letting me talk, letting me exist. The way she had smiled when I made mistakes, the way she had hugged me after I scared myself trying a new trick… She had trusted me, really trusted me, like I wasn't a kid anymore, like I could do anything.
And now… she couldn't.
I clenched my fists, feeling the raw anger build—the unfairness of it all. Why her? Why Aunty Kathrine? She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve a single scratch, let alone… this.
I thought about all the things I wished I could say to her one last time. I'll be brave. I'll take care of Jay-Jay. I'll make sure no one forgets your kindness. I'll… I'll try to make you proud.
I wanted to scream, to throw something, to make the world feel even a fraction of the chaos inside me. But I didn't. I just sat there, broken, letting the grief wash over me, letting the tears fall.
The memories kept coming, each one sharper than the last. The time she had corrected my silly little mistakes, the time she had laughed at my clumsy jokes, the time she had hugged me after I scared myself trying a new trick… I held onto all of it, because all I had left was memory.
I can't let her light go out, I thought stubbornly, through tears and trembling. I have to carry it. I have to protect Jay-Jay. I have to… do something.
I bit my lip, trying to stop the sob rising in my throat. My fists loosened a little, but the storm inside me raged on. The room around me blurred, a haze of grief, sorrow, and anger. I didn't notice the others—Jay-Jay, Percy, Keifer, the boys—none of them. All I could think about was her.
For the first time, I whispered her name softly, almost reverently:
"Aunty Kathrine…"
The hospital felt colder, harsher, emptier—but in my heart, a fire had started. A fire fueled by grief, love, and a promise. I would survive this. I would protect the people she loved. And I would carry her light forever, even in the darkness.
Because she had been my safe place once. And now, I would do everything I could to make sure her legacy didn't die with her.