Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 48 - WHO WANTS DINNER?

And the silence.

I looked at her again. My best friend. My bright, storm-eyed heroine who once smiled like she can save the world... or at least a piece of it. Now, she looked so small. Like the fight had been drained from her bones.

But then… her fingers twitched.

I blinked. Was that...?

Her hand moved again, barely a flutter. Then, her brow furrowed. Her lips parted slightly, drawing in a shaky breath. Her whole face winced like the light above was too sharp, like returning to consciousness hurt. My heart somersaulted in my chest.

“Betty?” I whispered, standing up so fast the chair screeched behind me.

Her eyes opened slowly, just a crack. And for a second, just a second, those dark, familiar eyes met mine.

“Betty,” I said louder, tears rushing before I could stop them. “You’re awake! You... oh my god, you’re awake!”

I turned and ran, bolted through the hallway like my sneakers were jet-propelled, like I had wings. My cape was invisible, but my mission was clear.

“DOCTOR!” I shouted, sliding into the nurse’s station. “ROOM 306! She’s awake! Betty, she’s awake!”

People moved quickly. Someone radioed a code. Feet pounded down the sterile floor. I didn’t stop. I made another sharp turn down the next corridor. Claire and Mr. Finn were at the counter, his brow furrowed, her arms crossed.

“She’s awake!” I yelled again, breathless. “Mr. Finn, she’s... Betty’s awake!”

He dropped the pen he was holding.

Claire gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “Oh my God.”

We ran together.

A doctor passed us halfway down the hallway. A nurse followed with a blood pressure cuff and chart. And as the chaos rippled out behind me, I felt something bloom in my chest, hope. It wasn’t over. The story hadn’t ended at that cliff. She was still here. My best friend was still here. And maybe… just maybe… the girl who saved everyone else might still have a chance to save herself.

The doctors flooded in like an elite task force, clipboards, stethoscopes, swift precision. I stood back, heart thundering as a nurse pulled the curtain halfway. Machines beeped. Gloves snapped. Someone asked Betty simple questions, her name, what day it was, but I couldn’t hear the answers. The noise was a distant buzz behind the pounding in my ears. Then, silence. The curtain slid open again. The team filed out with tight-lipped professionalism and tired eyes. Betty was awake, and stable. That was all that mattered. Mr. Finn walked in first. He didn’t say a word. He simply crossed the room in two quick strides and wrapped Betty in his arms, trembling as he did. Claire followed after, hugging both of them like a stitched patch on a torn cloth. Then I stepped forward, holding my breath, and gently wrapped my arms around Betty too, like a cape shielding her from the pieces still falling.

But Betty… Betty didn’t react.

Her arms stayed limp by her side, her face unreadable. Eyes distant. Like someone trying to remember which world they had just landed in. I watched her closely, it was like the lights were on, but the circuits were still rerouting, thoughts still reconnecting.

Then Betty turned. Her gaze sharp as glass.

“What are you doing here?” she asked Claire, voice low, flat, and chilling in its quiet clarity.

Claire blinked, visibly stunned. Before she could respond, the door burst open.

Matt. He ran in like the room was on fire, eyes wide with hope. “Betty!” he called, rushing to her bedside, falling to his knees beside her. He hugged her, gently at first, like she might vanish if he held too tight. Betty shifted. Then she gently, but firmly, pushed him away.

A pause.

Then...

James peeked through the door, hesitant. Just a glance. But Betty saw.

And the storm exploded.

“GET OUT!!!” she screamed, voice splitting the silence like thunder ripping through the sky. “I don’t want to see you! GET LOST!”

Her scream echoed against the sterile walls, wild and desperate. She wasn’t just yelling at James. She was yelling at pain, at betrayal, at the chaos that had swallowed her whole. My heart twisted. James stood frozen, as if punched in the chest. His hand was still on the doorknob. Mr. Finn rushed to hold Betty, her body trembling from the force of her scream.

“I think it’s better if she doesn’t see you for now,” I said quietly to James, her voice gentle but firm. My fingers curled around the edge of the door. I didn’t wait for an answer. I shut it.

And the room fell quiet, almost eerily so.

Betty’s body slumped into her father’s chest, the anger draining as fast as it came. Like a child, her voice cracked, a fragile whimper.

“I… I’m s-sorry,” she said suddenly, as if shocked by her own outburst. “I’m sorryyy…”

She broke.

The sobs came like waves. Messy, uncontrollable, full-bodied cries from somewhere deep. I stepped closer again, but didn’t speak. Didn’t touch. Some things didn’t need fixing, they needed witnessing. And so, I just stood there. A silent guardian. A girl in a hoodie. Not with superpowers, not with answers, but with presence. Because right now, that’s all Betty needed. Someone who wouldn’t flinch at the full force of her storm. Someone who wouldn’t run. There’s a kind of stillness that feels like the world has stopped spinning.

Betty’s crying, no longer angry or fierce, but small. Childlike. Her sobs sound like something that doesn’t know how to live inside her body anymore. Her father holds her like he’s trying to gather the pieces before they scatter. Claire stands stiff at the foot of the bed, clutching her own elbows. Her face is pale, not with guilt, but with distance. She doesn’t understand what Betty meant when she asked, “What are you doing here?” But I do.

It’s the same question I ask the world sometimes when things don’t make sense. When you wake up and realize people aren’t who you thought they were. Or maybe they are, and you just hoped they weren’t. Matt hasn’t said a word since he walked in. He’s standing beside me like a statue. I can feel the weight of what he wants to say, the apologies that don’t fit neatly into any sentence. His eyes are glassy, but he keeps them trained on the tiles. Like he’s punishing himself. I think that’s what we all do now. Bleed in silence.

And me?

I’m standing in this room like a powerless superhero. My cape’s torn, my voice is shot, and no amount of truth-telling can undo what’s been done. Betty's pain is too deep for bandaids and too loud for speeches. All I can do now is be here. The room is soaked in quiet. Claire takes a hesitant step forward, but Betty doesn’t even look up. Her body shakes with the weight of everything. Her rage. Her grief. Her heart.

Then the door swings open.

Light from the hallway pours in...and with it, Drake announces...

“Who wants dinner?”