THIRD
The medical bay smelled like antiseptic, smoke, and blood.
Nova hated it instantly.
Bright fluorescent lights burned overhead while doctors and nurses rushed around the room, checking burns, wrapping cuts, treating smoke inhalation, assessing hearing damage. The aftermath of the bombing had left everyone scattered and bruised in one way or another.
But Nova barely registered any of it.
She sat stiffly on the medical bed, arms crossed over herself, eyes hollow and distant while her mind replayed the same thing over and over again.
Beep.
Beep.
Boom.
The fire.
The screams.
Romeo's arms yanking her backward.
The heat.
The smoke.
The realization that if he had been even one second slower—
She would have died.
A nurse approached her carefully with a syringe in hand.
"Just something mild for the pain, sweetheart—"
Nova's entire body snapped.
Her hand flew out before she even thought, smacking the syringe from the nurse's grasp.
It clattered loudly across the floor.
Everyone froze.
"How do I know that isn't poison?!" Nova shouted, scrambling backward on the bed. "How do I know you're not trying to drug me?!"
The nurse stumbled back, startled.
"Nova—" Malcolm started carefully.
"No!" she snapped, eyes wild. "No one touches me!"
She immediately tried climbing off the medical bed.
Malcolm and Javier rushed forward.
"Nova, stop—"
She jerked away from them violently.
"How do you know they're not trying to hurt me?!" she screamed. "How do you know any of them can be trusted?!"
The room fell dead silent.
Christian, Javier, Malcolm, all of her brothers—everyone stared.
Nova's chest rose and fell rapidly.
Her breathing was becoming erratic.
Her eyes darted around the room at every face.
Every nurse.
Every doctor.
Every guard.
Every shadow.
"A bomb was planted in your car, Javier!" she yelled, voice cracking with hysteria. "How the hell do you think that happened?! Someone had to put it there!"
No one answered.
No one could.
"That means someone got close enough!" she shouted. "Someone on the inside! Someone in security! Someone near us! Someone had access!"
Her eyes flicked to Malcolm.
"How do you know there isn't a rat in your staff?!"
To Javier.
YOU ARE READING
Bonita
Ficción GeneralShe was only 8 years old. 8 years old and she saw her mother get killed by a drive by. From that day poor Nova has been traumatized and has been to foster home to foster home. At the age of 12, Nova has anger and trust issues, never letting anyo...
