I swallowed hard. “I didn’t even know,” I whispered. “I didn’t know because I’m… I’m always irregular.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Do you want me to call someone for you?”
“My phone,” I muttered.
She handed it over.
It was still working. I stared at the screen. Still no messages. No calls.
I tried calling Scott again. Voicemail.
I stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours.
Then, hungry and weak, I pushed myself up and wandered the halls in my hospital gown. I passed a nurses’ station, then a quiet corridor.
Then I heard a voice I hadn’t heard in three years.
Jasmine.
“…didn’t I tell you to kill her? Why is she still alive?” she hissed.
My heart dropped.
“I’m awake now. So she should be dead. Why is she even in this hospital?” she snapped.
“She was saved,” the man replied. “Some guys showed up. We didn’t expect it. We had to run.”
I stumbled back a step.
Saved? Someone saved me?
But who?
“Do it properly next time,” Jasmine ordered coldly. “And never show your face to me again unless I call you and never tell anyone about this! Got it?”
Footsteps. I backed up quickly, hiding behind a corner as the man exited. I was shaking.
Then—
“There you are!”
I spun around.
Scott.
Beaming.