It all started with a game

Chapter 16.1

The bottom line is that we never fall for the people we're supposed to.
~Jodi Picoult

A/N
Apologies in advance, this chapter is a bit lengthy.

Do we prefer longer chapters or shorter chapters?

Also Tanaka is our Scorpio :)

Chapter 16.1
Ryder's POV
I carried the weight of my head in my hands, hunched over my knees looking about as terrible as the guy beside me, who's daughter was in the middle of high risk brain surgery.

The entire room was filled with people whose loved ones could be very well dying for all they knew. Someone in this room would most likely be going home with an empty passenger seat, to a vacant house full of reminders and painful memories. And they have no clue, because none of us have a clue what in the world is going on because no one will tell you anything.

The man, who's name I had not bothered to ask, patted my back. "It'll be alright, son," he offered the best support he could considering the shape he was in. At least Beatrice isn't having brain surgery, I don't think.

What if she's in brain surgery?

I didn't know anything. I didn't even know what happened, how she fell so badly. The fire department had to practically dig her out of the debris; there were pieces lodged into her flesh.

I tried to breathe normally but I hadn't been able to do so since I saw her laying in a puddle of her own blood.

Loud, ominous footsteps echoed through the room, which had previously been dead silent—perhaps dead wasn't the most appropriate word to use at the moment. A nurse entered our vicinity. Every single body, including my own and the man's beside me, in the area quickly became alert and rigid as they all began to wonder if the nurse was there for them or someone else, whether she was there to deliver good news or bad. I inhaled a sharp breath, gripping onto my leg to keep my body from visibly shaking.

I hate hospitals, but then again who doesn't, except perhaps a medical professional. Being in a hospital almost always meant you, or someone you loved was hurt—unless in the rare occasion you were having a child but even then, plenty of people die during childbirth—so who wouldn't hate hospitals.

Part of me begged that the nurse was going to call out Beatrice's name, but the other half didn't want her to. At least then I could stay in denial but if that nurse was going to tell me Beatrice didn't make it, I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to know. I can't go through that again, I won't make it. I won't survive.

The man gave my shoulder a comforting pat, as if to tell me everything would be alright. But how could he know? She was unconscious the entire time, while they were pulling her out of the kitchen, the ride in the ambulance, as they rushed her away for exams, she was unconscious the entire time. How could she possibly be okay after that?

I should have gotten the cup for her. I should have just offered to grab it for her.

The nurse took her spot at the head of the room, the clipboard in her hand a scythe. It was as if the whole room had begun to hold their breath as she read the name off her scythe. "Jasmine Alvarez?" She read aloud with such an unreadable tone.

The man beside me stood. "That's my daughter." His own aged hands trembled behind his back as he tried to seem composed.

This was it. This was the news that could break this man. A single sentence, five words that can destroy a person's entire life, that can change all that you know. Five little words that can ruin everything. "We did everything we could."