The moment Carl stepped outside the room to make a call, I stayed frozen in the room, squeezed on the floor and my back against the wall, eyes on the floor, body trembling. Everything inside me was still vibrating from the chaos.
I stared at my hands. My fingertips were still stained red. I hadn't even noticed.
And then, behind me, I heard a whisper that jolted me like lightning.
"You bitch… you want to run away?"
I screamed.
It wasn't the kind of scream you rehearse in horror movies—it was primal, broken, the sound of a girl unravelling.
Anne.
She was talking. Breathing. Awake.
I didn't wait to process it. My body moved on instinct. I bolted out of the room like I was being chased by a ghost and ran straight into Carl, who was still on the phone. He caught me just before I crashed into his chest.
"Whoa! Hey—Sidney?"
I was shaking, quivering in his arms, gasping for air like someone who had been underwater too long. I didn't know what I looked like—probably a mess, probably wild-eyed and flushed—but the only thing I felt was relief that his arms were around me again.
"She… she said something," I stammered, gripping his shirt like it was my last hold on reality. "She...she talked. She's awake."
Carl wrapped his arms around me tighter, grounding me.
"Shh," he whispered gently. "Sidney, it's okay. You're okay."
My breathing was erratic. He pulled back slightly and took my face in his hands.
"Breathe," he said. "Look at me. In through your nose… now out through your mouth."
I followed, like a child obeying a parent. He counted with me.
"In… two… three. Out… two… three…"
It took several rounds before I was calm enough to speak again.
He helped me sit down by the hallway wall, still crouched in front of me like a shield. Then, without saying another word, he stood and went back into the room.
I stayed seated, my back against the wall, knees pulled to my chest.
The voices coming from inside the room were muffled. I couldn't make out the words—just Carl's deeper tone and Anne's occasional groan. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see anything else. I didn't want to imagine her face, that blood, the way her fingers had latched onto my wrist like a horror movie climax.
And then came the sirens.
They blared in the distance, growing louder by the second, until two sets of heavy boots came rushing through the hallway.
"Where's the patient?" one of the paramedics asked sharply.
I lifted my arm and pointed.
They didn't wait. They pushed the door open, and within seconds, I heard the shift of the stretcher, the rustling of bandages, the beeping of equipment.
A minute later, they wheeled Anne out. Her eyes were barely open, her mouth moving, mumbling something incoherent.
Carl followed behind them, his steps purposeful.
He didn't even speak. He just reached out his hand toward me, and I took it without hesitation. He pulled me to my feet like I weighed nothing and wiped the lingering tears from my cheek with the back of his fingers.
"She's not dead," he said quietly, almost as if he were reassuring me and himself at the same time.
I broke into another sob, clutching my chest.
Carl didn't speak again. He wrapped an arm around me and led me to his car.
Once inside the car, I buckled myself in mechanically. Carl started the engine, and we pulled out of the estate.
The drive was strangely peaceful. Too peaceful for what just happened.
Carl's left hand was on the steering wheel. His right hand… found its way to my thigh. Warm. Steady. Firm. Not in a suggestive way, but in a grounding way. A way that said, You're safe.
I sniffled again, eyes on the road, but his hand remained where it was, occasionally giving my thigh the lightest reassuring squeeze.
He was smiling.
I don't know what surprised me more—how gentle he was, or the fact that he was smiling after everything that happened.
I turned to him slowly. "Why are you smiling?"
Carl glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "Because… despite the insanity of today… you're okay. You're safe. And that matters."
I didn't know what to say to that. I just nodded and looked away again.
After a few minutes of silence, he finally asked, "What exactly happened between you two?"
I sighed deeply, not sure how much to reveal.
"We argued," I said quietly. "I was packing. I told her I was leaving, and she… she didn't like that. She grabbed me. I pushed her off me, and she fell. Hit her head. I didn't mean to… Carl, I swear, I didn't mean to hurt her."
Carl nodded slowly. "I believe you. But what were you arguing about?"
I hesitated.
"She said… she said I was trying to steal her man."
He frowned. "Her man?"
I turned my face away, cheeks burning. "Yes."
There was a pause.
"What relationship do you have with this man?" he asked.
I turned my head sharply and glared at him. "What?"
Carl looked genuinely confused. "I'm just asking."
"You really want to go there?" I said, deadpan. "You want me to spell it out for you?"
"What?"
"She accused me of trying to steal you, Carl."
His hand on my thigh froze.
"What?"
"Don't play dumb."
He laughed—actually laughed.
"What the hell? Steal me? When did I become property?"
I folded my arms across my chest. "You tell me."
Carl shook his head in disbelief. "That's… wow."
"She thinks you're hers."
"That's ridiculous. I've met her once. At Jake's birthday party. We exchanged two sentences. I don't even remember her face."
I eyed him sceptically. "Why are you explaining so much?"
He grinned. "Because you're acting like you care."
I rolled my eyes and looked out the window.
"Would you have cared?" he asked, more serious now. "If I was involved with her?"
"Of course I would," I said before I could stop myself.
Carl smirked. "Then that settles it."
He parked the car outside the hospital and turned off the engine.
"Listen," he said, turning toward me. "Whatever she said to you—whatever she did—you didn't deserve that. None of this is your fault."
I stared at him, too exhausted to smile, too grateful to look away.
"Thank you," I said, voice small.
Carl reached out and touched my cheek. "You're not alone, Sidney."
I wanted to believe that.
I really did.
But as I followed him into the hospital, I couldn't help the fear still growing in the back of my mind.