𝐑𝐍𝟒𝐋

TWENTY NINE

DEMARCUS "MARC"

Marc shot forward, practically stumbling over his own feet. "That's me. Is she aight? What about my baby?"

The doctor looked up, her expression tense, and hesitated before speaking.

Marc's breath hitched, and Kiyari's heart pounded as the silence stretched.

The doctor drew in a slow breath. "Your girlfriend sustained significant injuries from the accident. We managed to stabilize her, but..." Her voice dipped. "She's slipped into a coma. We're monitoring her closely."

Marc blinked hard, confused. "A coma? What that mean? Is she gon' wake up?"

"We don't know yet," the doctor admitted, her tone steady but cautious. "There's brain trauma. We're doing everything we can."

Marc staggered back, his hands flying to his head. "Man, no... no. She was just talkin' to me. She was fine!"

"I'm truly sorry," the doctor said quietly.

Tanyah stood and wrapped Marc in her arms as his knees weakened. "Baby, I'm so sorry," she whispered, tears slipping down her face.

Marc jerked away, breathing hard. "What about my son? You ain't tell me about my son!"

The doctor's expression softened. "Your son is alive. He's in the NICU—stable but premature. He's fighting."

"A son..." Marc whispered, breaking down.

The tension in the room thickened until the doors swung open. Niavah walked in, her boyfriend trailing behind her. Her eyes swept the room, full of worry.

"Marc," she said softly. "I just heard. I had to come—"

Marc's head snapped toward her, fury twisting his face. "You had to see me?" he bit out. "What you doing here, Niavah? Ain't you done enough today?"

Niavah froze. "I just wanted to check on you. I didn't mean for anything to—"

"You ain't mean what?" Marc stepped closer, shaking with rage. "You ain't mean to pop up to my baby shower uninvited? You ain't mean to bring your lil' boyfriend? You ain't mean to start that argument with Feliciti?"

"Marc, chill," Kiyari warned.

"Nah, Yari! If she ain't pull that stunt, Feliciti wouldn't have stormed out. She wouldn't have been in that damn car."

Niavah's voice trembled. "I swear I didn't mean for none of this—"

"Save it. You ain't have to pull up at all. But you did. Now she layin' in a hospital bed in a damn coma."

"Marc, calm down. It isn't her fault—"

"Shut the fuck up, Kiyari." His voice cracked. "Yo messy ass was eatin' that shit up. Ion wanna hear from you either."

"Marc, enough!" Rashad snapped, gripping Marc's shoulder. "This ain't how you handle this. Don't burn bridges in yo' pain."

Marc yanked away and turned his back on Niavah. "Get out."

"Rayamiah—"

"Man, watch out. Don't call me that no more. We done. Don't hit me, don't check on me, don't even exist near me. Leave."

Niavah's tears spilled as she nodded and backed out the door. "I'm sorry, Miah. For real." She left with her boyfriend trailing behind.

A nurse stepped in soon after. "Mr. Dukes, you can see her now."

Marc followed her down the long hallway, every step heavier. When the nurse opened the door, he froze.

Feliciti lay motionless, surrounded by machines, a ventilator softly whooshing beside her. Bandages wrapped her head. Bruises stained her arms. But she was breathing.