She's crying —actually crying— and the sound that comes out of her is thin and sharp and wrong.
"H–he... lp... me..." she whimpers.
It feels like the air gets punched out of my lungs.
Zach drops to his knees so fast the sound echoes. "Angel," he breathes, voice cracking as he reaches for her.
She cries harder when he touches her, curling around the pain. "It hurts... Z—Zachy... it hurts..."
My vision blurs with tears. Sam never cries. Never complains. Seeing her like this feels like someone reaches into her chest and squeezes.
Zach doesn't waste another second.
He slides one arm under her knees, the other behind her back, and lifts her carefully — gently, like she weighs nothing.
Sam sobs into his shoulder. "It hurts... Zachy, it hurts so much..."
He's trying to stay calm, I can tell — but fear is carved into every line of his face.
"I know, angel," he whispers, voice tight. "I've got you. We're taking you to the hospital. Just hold on, okay? Hold on."
We rush out the door again.
Out the hallway.
Into the elevator.
Out into the cold morning air.
Zach climbs into the backseat with Sam, holding her close while she trembles and cries.
I jump into the driver's seat and slam the door shut.
Traffic is mercifully nonexistent at this hour. I speed the whole way, heart pounding so viciously it hurts. Every time Sam whimpers, I grip the wheel tighter.
We pull up to the ER entrance and Zach is out of the car before I even finish braking.
"HELP!" he shouts, voice sharp with panic. "Please — somebody help my sister!"
Two nurses rush out immediately with a gurney.
"What's going on, sweetheart?" one asks, crouching beside Sam as Zach lowers her onto the stretcher.
Sam cries out when they adjust her.
"It's okay, you're okay," the nurse soothes, brushing hair from Sam's damp forehead. "Can you tell me what hurts?"
"S–stomach," Sam gasps, clutching her side. "It's... sharp... it's— I can't—"
Her voice breaks.
Another nurse jumps in. "Any nausea? Fever? Dizziness?"
Sam squeezes her eyes shut, nodding weakly. "Everything... hurts..."
"Okay," the nurse says gently, already checking her vitals. "We've got you. We're going to take you inside and get you some help."
Zach is right beside the gurney, one hand on Sam's shoulder even as they start wheeling her in. His face is pale, jaw clenched so tight it trembles.
