𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄|𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁:𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗺𝗲?

Esmeralda Lopez felt as if she couldn't breathe. The walls were closing in around her as she struggled to gain oxygen into her lungs, the action proving to be ineffective as she hyperventilated in the middle of the hospital waiting room. She had never felt so stressed out in her life as she sped over to the hospital, trying to keep her eyes on the road while also making sure Luna didn't bleed to death in the passengers seat of the car.

Esme couldn't help but blame herself for everything that had happened. If she had just minded her own business just as everyone had warned her none of this would've ever happened. Luna wouldn't be in an operating room fighting for her life with the possibility of never making it out. The thought only made her sob harder, beginning to tug on her hair which was gradually falling out. She had tried to ignore it, assuming that it was just a side affect from not washing it for so long, but it had gotten worse, falling out in much larger clumps that left noticeable bald spots. Esme squeezed the hair between her fingertips before dropping it down on the ground, her vision becoming blurred by the warm tears filling her eyes and falling onto the bleach stained ground.

Esme had been sitting in the hospital chair for so long she was terrified that she might sink into it, the world sucking her in and making her pay for her sins. She had been the one that accused Luna of being apart of everything when in reality that wasn't the case whatsoever. She had been the one to stay inside of the house instead of leaving when she got a chance. Esme wanted to rip her mother's head off. She was a liar, manipulator, and she had been fucking stupid enough to fall for it.

"Esmeralda," Shoupe greeted, Esme slowly opening her eyes once more at the sight of the older man. She didn't have the time or energy to deal with him, especially when he was most likely going to ask the dumbest questions in the entire world. Nonetheless she slowly stood up, smoothing out her clothes which were still stained with Luna's blood. Like practically everything else, Esme didn't have to energy to go back home and change her clothes into much cleaner ones. "I think it's time we had a little talk."

"Talk about what?" Esme uttered, her own voice barely even recognizable due to the amount of crying she did. All she wanted was to curl into a ball and die. "Luna was shot. What else is there to know?"

"You know what I wanna know," Shoupe replied, moving to sit across from Esme who refused to make eye contact with him, for if she did she would simply burst out into tears all over again. "How did this happen? Who shot her?"

"It was all my fault," Esme repeated for about the millionth time, wiping harshly at her eyes. "I-I suspected something was going on when this car kept following me, so I looked deeper into it. Turns out me looking was going to end up with Luna in the hospital. The man's name was Hector Salazar, and I didn't know the other guys name. I didn't mean for any of this to happen shoupe, you gotta understand that. None of this was intentional. Am I gonna go to jail?"

Esme was secretly hoping that Shoupe would say yes, for that would save her all of the torture rifnt then and there. It wasn't as if she didn't deserve it as well. She had gotten Luna hurt, with the possibility of her never waking up from her coma. Jail was the least she deserved. She deserved to be dead. But when Shoupe shook his head, Esme felt a pang of disappointment deep in her gut. She hadn't even thought about how her friends would've reacted if they found out she was in jail for attempted murder. Speaking of, for the last three or so hours they had been blowing up her phone nonstop, not that she had bothered to answer. What was she even supposed to tell them?

Hey, my aunt just got shot and there's a a possibility of me going to jail, don't worry! Esme would look borderline insane, and she would even try to make up anything to defend herself. Shoupe stated at her for a moment longer before turning away, which she was grateful for. It would save her copious amounts of anguish.