Second Chance

Eighteen: Taylor's Resolve

Eighteen: Taylor’s Resolve

Nurses and doctors whizzed down the corridors, ushering patients after patients into identical bleak white hospital rooms. So what if the kidnappers were caught as her mom had told her? Jared was hurt, and that was all that mattered. Ciara rested her chin on her knees. How many hours had passed? She did not know. It felt like her heart was being wrapped in tight bandages, suffocating to breathe. She silently bit her nails—a nervous habit she thought she’d gotten rid of a few years back.

“Ciara,” her mom’s voice drifted to her by her side, but she was too transfixed on the dull floor. The word was repeated. This time, the voice was stronger. Before she knew it, she felt someone shaking her shoulder.

“Yes, mom?”

“You need to rest. It’s been hours, and you’re sitting there like a stone.”

She raised her head, and Emily winced. She knew her eyes were red, and her makeup smudged. It did not matter. No matter how bad she looked, she felt worse—a lot worse. She sighed.

“All right, I’ll go to the bathroom and clean up a bit.”

She herself wanted nothing more than to simply sit there and wait for the emergency room’s door to open. Her mind was blank, and it was as if she was in some sort of baffled state between dream and reality.

She rested her elbow by the sink and let her hands dangle over the edge. Droplets of water rolled down the curve of her fingers and finally dropping onto the surface of the basin. She tilted her head back and brushed a few strand of her blond hair from her eyes.

No wonder her mom cringed.

Ciara let out another sigh and turned the tap on. She splashed her face with water and wiped away the remnant of her ruined makeup and dried tears. Without another look at the mirror, she exited the bathroom. She stopped short.

“Ciara.” Bessie hurried to her as soon as she was out of the toilet. Ciara had never seen her friend this worried.

“I’m fine,” Ciara heard herself say. Her voice sounded awful to herself.

But he’s not.

Ciara gritted her teeth and made her way back to her old place. She settled into the same position as earlier.

He will be fine, she told herself. He’s Jared. A mere bullet cannot kill him! It shouldn’t kill him!

Five hours.

Those five hours were not just long; they were agonizing. With every tick, her heart felt like it was being ripped out of her chest; with every tock, an invisible force would shred her heart like cheese.

Five hours later, the door finally opened. Ciara was by the doctor’s side in a flash. She was vaguely aware of the people around her. The words uttered by the doctor in the next few seconds would determine her life. His gaze shifted past hers.

“I need an immediate family member of -”

“I’m here,” Mary said. She stood up, swaying rather precariously, and approached the doctor.

“Can I speak to you in private, please?”

Ciara’s heart did moves that would make an acrobat proud. Emily noticed her tensed state and placed her arm gently around Ciara’s shoulder.

“He’ll be fine. You have to believe in that.”

Ciara wanted to crumble into a billion little pieces. At least, that was what she was feeling. A part of her wanted to eavesdrop on the hushed conversation going just around the corner, but the other part of her refused. She could barely move.