The following day dawned with a heavy sense of anticipation, the events of the previous night casting a shadow that seemed to linger over everything. Lydia and I sat in the living room, both lost in our thoughts as we waited for the clock to inch closer to visiting hours at the clinic. My parents had insisted on accompanying us, their concern evident in the way they hovered nearby, ready to provide support.
I glanced at Lydia, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. It was clear that she wasn't thrilled about the situation – her protective instincts were at odds with her discomfort at being surrounded by people showing genuine care. She had always been a master at navigating the boundaries of our group, and this new dynamic seemed to challenge her in ways she hadn't anticipated.
Finally, the time came, and with a collective sigh, Lydia, my parents, and I made our way to the clinic. As we entered, the sterile scent of antiseptic greeted us, and my heart raced with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. The sight of Danny lying in a hospital bed, his arm bandaged and an IV hooked up, was both a relief and a stark reminder of the danger that seemed to loom around every corner.
Lydia's discomfort was palpable as we approached the bed, her gaze fixed on Daniel with a mix of concern and annoyance. She didn't quite fit into this scene of worry and fawning over an injured friend, her edgy persona at odds with the somber atmosphere of the clinic.
"Hey, Danny," I murmured, my voice soft as I reached for his uninjured hand. "How are you feeling?"
Danny managed a weak smile, his voice hoarse. "Could be worse, I guess. Thanks for coming, Alaine."
Lydia shifted awkwardly by my side, her expression a mix of skepticism and impatience. She was clearly uncomfortable in this environment, and it was easy to see how out of place she felt. Our parents engaged in small talk with Daniel's parents, their voices hushed as they exchanged worried glances.
After a while, two police officers entered the room, their presence a stark reminder of the grim circumstances that had led us here. They introduced themselves and began questioning us about our whereabouts before and after the attacks. Lydia and I exchanged cautious glances, our unspoken agreement clear – we would omit certain details from our encounters with Jordan and Francine. We were glad my parents had been asleep when we got home so we could lie our way out without getting caught.
"We were at home last night," I replied, my voice steady as I met the officer's gaze. "Just a regular night in, watching movies and hanging out."
Lydia nodded in agreement, her expression carefully neutral. "Yeah, nothing out of the ordinary."
The officers exchanged glances before nodding, seemingly satisfied with our answers. "Alright, just stay safe and don't get too caught up in this. We're handling the investigation."
With their departure, a palpable tension lifted from the room, and Lydia let out a sigh of relief. "Well, that was uncomfortable."
I managed a half-smile, my concern for Daniel still weighing heavily on my mind. "Yeah, but at least we're clear for now."
As if on cue, the door swung open, and Maxine and Francine entered, their expressions a mix of relief and concern. Maxine quickly made her way to Daniel's side, her voice gentle as she checked in on him, but her hands seemed to linger about almost everywhere they could get. My brows furrowed in distaste, but it went unnoticed. Francine stayed by the doorway, her eyes scanning the room before landing on Lydia and me.
"Hey, Alaine, Lydia," Francine greeted, her tone casual. "I heard what happened. Johnson's dead, huh?"
Lydia's jaw clenched, her gaze narrowing at Francine's nonchalant attitude. "Yeah, he is. Danny says he didn't do it though."
