Breaking the Rules

Chapter 38

The hospital's fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the linoleum floors. The hum of machines and the distant murmur of voices created a kind of white noise that buzzed in Grace's ears, lulling her into a daze of unreality. She had been sitting in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity, her fingers intertwined tightly in her lap, knuckles white from the pressure. Her clothes were stained with Elliot's blood, and every time she looked down at them, the cold weight of panic pressed harder against her chest.

It had been hours since they rushed Elliot into surgery, the paramedics telling her he'd lost a lot of blood. They weren't sure if he'd make it. Those words had pierced through the fog in Grace's mind, lodging like a splinter deep in her heart. She couldn't get the image out of her head—the sight of Elliot lying there in the alley, pale and bleeding, his body crumpled like he was on the edge of fading away.

"He's going to be fine. He has to be." Grace repeated those words to herself like a mantra, but with each passing minute, the fear gnawed at her insides, telling her the opposite. She kept hearing the ragged sound of Elliot's breathing, the way he had clutched at her arm, too weak to even speak by the time the ambulance arrived.

A soft voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts. "Grace?"

She looked up and saw Madison standing at the entrance of the waiting room. Her friend's eyes were wide, filled with concern and something else—something like fear. It was strange to see Madison like that, the usually sharp-edged girl reduced to a bundle of anxiety, hovering in the doorway like she didn't quite know what to do.

Grace swallowed hard and managed a weak nod. "He's still in surgery."

Madison nodded, walking over and sitting beside her, the silence between them thick and heavy. There was so much to say, so many questions that hung unasked in the air, but neither of them had the energy for it. Not now. Madison had tried to warn her about Elliot, about his past, but Grace had pushed her away. She couldn't think about that now, not with Elliot's life hanging in the balance.

"Grace, I..." Madison started, her voice hesitant, but Grace shook her head, stopping her before she could go on.

"Not now," Grace whispered. "I can't... not right now."

Madison pressed her lips together, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "Okay," she said softly. "I'm here, though. Whatever happens, I'm here."

The minutes ticked by, dragging on like lead. It was well past midnight, the hospital growing quieter as the night wore on. The waiting room emptied out, one by one, until it was just Grace and Madison, sitting in the cold, sterile quiet, waiting.

Finally, the doors to the surgery wing opened, and a doctor stepped out. Grace stood up so fast she felt dizzy, her legs weak beneath her. The doctor, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes, approached them, her expression grave but not hopeless.

"Are you Grace?" she asked gently, and Grace nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

"Elliot's stable for now," the doctor said. "We were able to stop the bleeding and repair the damage, but he's not out of the woods yet. The next 24 hours are critical. He'll need to be closely monitored for any signs of infection or complications. We've moved him to the ICU. He's unconscious, but you can see him if you'd like."

Grace let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Relief mixed with dread in her chest—a temporary reprieve, but not a guarantee. He was alive. That was all that mattered, for now.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

The doctor nodded sympathetically. "Take your time. He's in room 403."