(Sadé's P.O.V.)

[Central Valley Hospital, 2 Days Later....]

I laid motionless in my hospital bed, only listening to the consistent beeping noise that came from the heart monitor that was placed to the right of me. Images of me getting shot in the leg by Fatoumata continuously flashed in my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, the incident occurred so fast. And as much as I hate to admit it, this was all Princeton’s fault. I know he was just trying to help me out, but that’s the problem. He cares about me too much. A normal person would’ve listened to me when I said just walk away, but Princeton took matters into his own hands, and thought that it would be best to just see if he could snatch the gun from Fatou, but he failed. And as a result, I got shot.

But I thank God that I was only shot in the leg, and I was rushed to the hospital fast enough for the Doctors to remove the bullet, and wrap my leg up before I lost too much blood. The doctors said I could leave the Hospital in a week, but I don’t think I want to. Compared to Juvenile Boot Camp, this Hospital is heaven. I’m treated well, and I don’t have to worry about some bitch doing something just to cause me pain. For once in my life, I felt relaxed and stressed free. But that was before my Mother - along with Jordan - decided to pay me a visit.

“You just can’t stay out the hospital, can you?” My Mother joked, but I wasn’t really in the mood to laugh. 

“Hey ma,” I fiddled with my fingers, not even bothering to look up at her. Since my Mother and I didn’t end on good terms, I really just want to avoid her for now. I’m still angry with her and she’s probably still mad at me.

“Sadé,” A male voice spoke. I looked up to see my Father, slowly walking into my room. I stared at him in shock, but then put my head down in shame. “Your mother told me about what you did.... And I’m extremely disappointed in you.”

“Dad... I’m sorry.”

“You should be. What you did was terrible, and I personally think you getting shot was just a way for God to punish you for your foolish acts.”

“Michael!” My Mother yelled. “Don’t say that.”

“Why shouldn’t I, Erica? It’s true. Why should I feel sympathetic towards her?”

“Because she’s your daughter.”

My Dad chuckled, “Not anymore.”

I looked up at him, “What?”

“You heard me. After you get out of Juvenile Boot Camp, you’re moving out.”