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Her grandma nods, her hands pressing against her knees as she stands, hovering over Hazel. “I know that, Willow. I was just wanting to hear it from him.”
I clench my jaw, giving her a nod.
Her smile relaxes. “I know. And Hazel will be fixed. I cannot unbreak her bones, or seal her skin, but I can heal her soul, so she has the ability to fight her physical wounds.”
“And once she’s awake, we’ll bring her to the hospital to get her the help she needs,” her mother adds.
Her mother and grandmother stand on each side of her, their toes touching Hazel’s sides. They grab hands, and closing their eyes, they start to hum.
I want something magical to happen. I’ve always fucking hated it, despised the very thought of magic and witchcraft. But at this moment, as I stare at Hazel, wanting to see her body glow, her eyes open, her chest lift in a gasping breath, anything to know she’ll be okay, I’m desperate for it. Craving it.
But nothing happens, and I grow angry, fucking furious as I watch her, wondering if I should’ve brought her to the hospital instead of here. If this was a fucking mistake.
They stand above her for a long time, until my shredded legs grow tired, my jaw going numb from the pressure I’m putting on it.
Eventually, their eyes open, their hands disconnecting as they look down at her.
Her mother lets out a sigh. “Now, we wait.”
Ilet out a gasp, a painful breath filling my lungs as my eyes fly open. The bright lights above me are blinding, and my eyes shutter closed as I turn my head into my pillow.
Not my pillow, though, because it smells like sanitizer. The entire place I’m in smells like disinfectant.
My eye cracks open once more, and I look around the room, seeing white everywhere.
White sheets, white pillow, white floor and walls and ceiling.
The constantbeep, beepof the machine beside me makes me realize where I am.
I’m in the hospital.
Wires upon wires hook up to me, leading from my arms and the tops of my hands, connecting to the machine beside me. Tubes float from my nose, the scent of clean air blasting into my sinuses.
What happened? Why am I here?
I shift in the bed and instantly feel pain in every limb.
My arm sits in a cast, but not just a sling like Atticus had. This is full-on wires and metal rods, a plastered cast going from my fingers to my bicep. My leg is lifted in a stirrup, and it looks so big, my free hand drops to it, feeling the chunkiness of another cast.
Again, what the hell happened?
The door creaks open, and a tired-looking Felix walks through, his face in his phone as he steps into the room. I adjust myself, and his head snaps up, the deep, dark heavy bags under his eyes making him look drained and weary as he looks at me, seemingly in shock.
The steaming cup of coffee in the blue-and-white Styrofoam cup slips from his fingers, splashing dark liquid all across the floor and his feet.
He spins around without another word, racing out of the hospital room. My mouth opens on a gasp, but my throat is impossibly dry, and all that can come out is a squeak.
Moments later, two nurses come rushing in, checking my heart, lungs, eyes, and mouth. They take my temperature, and finally, when they’re refilling my IVs, I slap at my throat, gesturing to the literal dehydration I’m experiencing.
“Oh! Yes, of course.” The short nurse runs from the room, her blue scrubs swishing between her legs, coming back a moment later with a white cup with a straw sticking out of it. “Just take small sips, now. You don’t want to overdo it.”
I nod, leaning my head up so I can take a sip. The cold water shocks my throat, and I let out a cough, water spurting from between my lips.
“Oh, dear.” The nurse sets the cup on the side table as she grabs a towel folded on top, wiping my lips. “Maybe we should’ve started with a couple of ice chips.”
I clear my throat, my body feeling like I’ve been run over by a semi-truck.
“What happened?” I croak.
