“I’m here,” I say shakily. “Luca?”
“On his way to the hospital. Soph, I wouldn’t have ordered him shot but?—”
“I know. I know, he went for his gun.” I rub a hand across my face, unsurprised when my palm comes away wet with tears.
“Did anyone hurt you?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Soph, what happened?” Scott’s voice is low, plaintive. I do owe him an explanation.
“You were right,” I say, barking out a humorless laugh. “You were so right. I should have never gone to the fight that night.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“I need to see Luca. I need to go and get Rosa and we need to see Luca,” I say stubbornly, and Scott frowns.
“It’s four in the morning?—”
“It’s four in the morning and she’s never met her father and he might be dying so you have to let me get her!” I yell, breaking down in sobs all over again, and Scott pulls me into his arms.
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. We should…we should go to the hospital first, Sophia. Just in case…”
In case he doesn’t make it.
I lose time again, and suddenly the bright lights of the hospital are beating down on me as Scott and I walk through the corridors.
Yelling sounds in the background, beeping, a flatline.
They’re still working on Luca. His heart still isn’t beating.
“We have to go get Rosa,” I breathe, and Scott listens but he doesn’t move, standing with his arm around me as we look through the glass.
“I’ll have her brought here,” he promises. “But not now, Soph. Think about it. If she shows up and sees him like this…”
I squeeze my eyes shut against the burning of tears. They slip down my face anyway.
“You’re right. You’re always right, Scott.” There’s some resentment in my voice and I hate myself for it. It isn’t Scott’s fault. I’d asked him for help and he’d given it, and it’s all I could have asked for.
“Soph—”
“Just leave me alone,” I snap, and his face falls. I soften, patting his cheek with one hand. “I love you, Scott, but I need you to leave me alone. Just for now.”
Scott stares at me for a moment longer and then nods, dropping his gaze from mine and leaving the corridor into the waiting room.
I stand there, watching them pound on Luca’s chest, shock him.
“We’ve got a pulse,” I hear, and all the sound seems to go out of the world. My ears are ringing and my vision blurs in and out. I don’t realize I’m fainting until I’m crumpling to the floor.
When I come to, I’m lying on one of those hard hospital couches and my neck hurts. Scott drapes a cool rag over my forehead and my head pounds, but I feel more awake, morepresentthan I have all night.
“There you are,” Scott says softly, smiling at me.
“Luca,” I gasp, and Scott frowns slightly.
“They won’t tell me anything but that he’s in surgery.”
My heart falls, seeming to drop into my stomach. “Still? What time is it?”
