Chapter Seventeen.

Isabella charged through the emergency doors with a gasping breath, the sound of her heels against the floors echoing back a series of clinks and thuds.

Her eyes were sore from the tears that fell from them and she held unto the bed on which Majorie was wheeled in.

“Oh my God” She exclaimed.

In her defense, the whole night had felt unreal—like a fever dream. And that image of standing over her aunt’s unconscious body was to haunt for days, and even weeks to come.

“Somebody help!” She had shouted, just before a man came through the elevators. He tried resuscitating her aunt, starting heavy yet cautious chest compressions. “What happened?” The stranger asked, dialing 911 in the nick of time. Her eyes wavered from the tears that stung in them.

“I don’t know” She sobbed.

“I don’t know, i came home and the door was open and i tried looking for her. I was so confused, only for me to see her lying here—i have no idea what happened” More tears fell as a crack remained imminent in her voice.