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𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒚-𝒕𝒘𝒐 | 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝔂'𝓼 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻
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𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘕𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘯
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SLOWLY BLINKING HER EYES OPEN, Charlotte groans as soon as she's fully conscious of her surroundings. "Oh, for fuck's sake," she mutters in frustration. "Again?"
From the end of the hospital bed, Melissa McCall chuckles. "Good timing, sweetheart." She grabs the patient file off the wall and looks to the girl with a small smile. "And I know you'll love that we need to get you out of here."
Charlotte's eyes brighten at her words and she throws off the blanket covering her legs, however, she instantly regrets it. She hisses at the throbbing pain on her arm that the action brings, and the sudden wave of nausea that hits her stomach. "How long was I out for?" she questions the nurse weakly.
"Just a few hours," Melissa says.
Then everything comes flooding back. Charlotte's eyes harden with fury as she speaks through gritted teeth. "I'm going to kill that bitch."
Melissa begins to undo her IV and she gives her a soft smile. "You aren't any time soon," she retorts. "Your arm's been stitched up and you've got a Grade Two concussion from blunt force trauma. We've given you some acetaminophen and a very low dose of morphine for the pain."
