Jessica’s POV
He nodded, seemingly pleased with the reply. "The surgery was successful. He’s stable."
I breathed a sigh of relief, but before my heart could feel the excitent, the doctor added.
"When he wakes up, we’ll see if there are any ... complications." His hesitation sparked concern within .
"What do you an?" I pressed, my voice laced with worry.
The doctor’s eyes darted around the hallway before focusing on . "The accident was severe. We’re not sure what internal damage occurred. He might lose his mory, he might need a wheelchair, or his private organ might be affected. We just..."
My heart sank. Nothing he said after that registered. I found myself sitting on a bench, my hands holding my head. For so reason, I felt I had a hand in what happened to him.
’You’re a jinx! Everyone who stays around you gets into one problem or the other!’
My adopted mother’s words rang in my head.
’If that’s how you want to play it, let’s see if you can handle the consequences.’
Liam...
My head snapped. Could it be him? When he threatened Kristen, he looked murderous, like he could kill Kristen. Was this his doing?
My mind swirled with unanswered questions, each scenario more unsettling than the last. Was it my so-called bad luck, Liam’s malicious doing, Kristen’s unknown enemies, or... just an accident? The uncertainty gnawed at .
Ti lost all aning as I sat frozen, trapped in my thoughts. The hospital’s antiseptic scent and muted beeps faded into the background.
Suddenly, the operating room doors swung open, jolting back to reality. My heart skipped a beat as I saw them wheeling his unconscious body out of the theater.
I took a step forward, my legs trembling. Soone’s hand on my shoulder steadied . But I had no ti to see who it was.
"Is he...?" I began, but my voice failed . My brother would be devastated if he found out his best friend was in this condition.
My vision blurred, tears streaming down my face as I stood paralyzed, the supportive hand still on my shoulder. My legs felt rooted to the spot, unable to move despite my desperation to reach Kristen.
Suddenly, strong arms enveloped , pulling into a warm, comforting chest. The familiar scent of Max’s cologne filled my lungs, and I dissolved into uncontrollable sobs.
"Please, help take her to this address," Kristen’s assistant’s voice sounded distant to my ears, his words muffled by my tears.
I felt myself being lifted, cradled in Max’s arms as he strode purposefully through the hospital corridors. The assistant’s concerned voice faded into the background.
The world around dissolved into a haze of grief and relief, my only anchor Max’s steady heartbeat against my cheek.
As we navigated the hospital, I clung to Max, my tears soaking his shirt. His gentle whispers cald , though I couldn’t discern the words.
Eventually, we reached a car. Max settled into the passenger seat, securing the seatbelt around .
I sent fervent prayers, desperate wishes, and silent praises, begging God to spare Kristen’s life and vitality. He was more than a friend – a brother, a confidant, a kindred spirit. The thought of losing him, or worse, seeing him suffer irreversible damage, shattered .
Why was I grieving so intensely? Kristen still lived, thank God. But my anguish ran deeper.
A nagging voice within whispered that I was cursed, a jinx, drawing harm to those I loved. Again, there was a tiny part which believed that Liam might have done it.
Both scenarios involved . Whichever one was true, has everything to do with .
’Please,’ I begged God in my heart, ’let Kristen recover, let him thrive. Prove wrong – I’m not a jinx.’
"We’re here." Max’s voice pulled out of my thoughts. I got down from his car and headed to the hotel, but he hurried after with my backpack.
"You forgot this," he said.
I took it from him, gave him a curt nod and walked away.
Sitting on the couch, I mindlessly scrolled through my phone, searching for any updates on Kristen’s accident. But there was nothing – no news articles, no social dia buzz. The silence was unsettling.
I realized that Kristen’s team must be keeping it under wraps. As a high-profile figure, his vulnerability would be a tempting target for his enemies. The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
Secrecy was crucial now. I understood the need for discretion, but the lack of information left feeling isolated and anxious.
My gaze drifted around the room, that was when I realized I was alone. I tried calling Hilda but she wouldn’t take her calls. Maybe she was at work.
I felt lonely and very sad. I wanted soone’s presence, soone to tell that I was a jinx.
My phone pierced the silence, shrill in the stillness. Annabelle’s na flashed on the screen. I hesitated, unsure if I was ready for conversation.
"Hey," I answered, trying to sound composed.
"I’m downstairs," Annabelle said. "Max told what happened. Can I co up?"
I nodded, though she couldn’t see .
Monts later, a hotel staff mber escorted Annabelle to my room. Her gaze swept the space before settling on , curled up on the couch.
"Hey, hey, don’t be like that," she cooed, rushing to my side. "I heard he’s not dead."
Her words, ant to comfort, only highlighted the turmoil within. How could I confess to a partial stranger that I felt responsible for Kristen’s accident? That I believed I was a jinx?
The weight of my secret threatened to suffocate . I couldn’t risk scaring Annabelle away or sparking rumors at school. I didn’t know her well enough to tell her such things.
"I’m just... worried," I settled for, hiding the true depth of my emotions.
Annabelle’s expression softened. "Of course, you are." She sat beside , wrapping a gentle arm around my shoulders.
For a mont, I let her warmth envelop , grateful for the human connection.
But the mask I wore, the secrets I kept, still separated from true understanding.
I longed for Hilda’s comforting presence. With her, I could unravel my tangled emotions, sharing my deepest fears without judgnt. But she was far away, and I was left with the weight of my secrets.
Maddie and my adopted mother weren’t friendly with . Our relationships lacked the intimacy needed for such vulnerable discussions.
And my biological family? The thought of revealing my jinx fears to them filled with dread. What if they treated differently, with wariness or pity? What if my confession put them in harm’s way?
I pushed the terrifying possibilities aside, shaking my head. I couldn’t risk losing the love and acceptance they’d shown over the past two years.
Their warmth had been a balm to my soul, and I clung to it. Even if it ant shouldering this burden alone, I chose to safeguard our relationships.
For now, I’d keep my secrets hidden, locked away from prying eyes and potential harm. The silence was suffocating, but it was a price I was willing to pay.
As Annabelle’s gentle arm remained around , I smiled weakly, grateful for her kindness, yet longing for the freedom to be truly open.
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