Afterlight (Fanfiction) - EDITING ✓

chapter forty

Chloe

FOUR hours had passed, and Justin still wasn't home. I lay sprawled on the bed, the glow of the television flickering against the walls of the dark room. Violet was next to me, her laughter light as she tossed Hershey's Kisses into the air, trying to catch them in her mouth. A movie played in the background, but I wasn't paying attention. My mind was a whirlpool, spinning in endless loops of thought I couldn't seem to escape.

Nick had left over an hour ago to pick up May and hadn't returned. Violet didn't seem to notice—or maybe she didn't care. She was in her own world, and I envied her for that.

The room was calm, almost deceptively so, when Violet's phone began to ring. She jumped off the bed so quickly that a few chocolates scattered onto the floor. She ignored them completely, her focus locked on the glowing screen in her hand.

"Nick's calling me," she said with a soft smile, holding up the phone as if to explain her abrupt exit. Before I could respond, she was out the door, the faint sound of her voice drifting down the hall as she answered.

I stayed where I was, trying and failing to lose myself in the movie. The dialogue blurred into meaningless noise as I grabbed another chocolate, stuffing it into my mouth, letting the sweetness fill the hollow ache in my chest. I didn't know what I was feeling—fear, sadness, longing—but whatever it was, it consumed me. I couldn't stop scratching at my arms, my skin crawling with memories I couldn't shake. No matter how much I tried to distract myself, he was everywhere.

The door creaked open. I glanced up, expecting Violet's usual cheery grin, but instead, she lingered in the doorway, her expression stark and unreadable. Her face, normally so full of life, was pale, drained of its usual color. My stomach twisted.

"Do you want to sit down?" I asked, patting the spot on the bed beside me. "You look pale."

She stepped into the room, but she didn't sit. Her eyes were large and blank, her lips slightly parted as though she wanted to speak but didn't know how.

"What's going on?" I pressed, sitting up straighter.

"Nick called," she said, her voice trembling. She stopped, running both hands through her hair, pulling at the strands as though trying to ground herself. "Chloe, Jay's in the hospital."

The words hit me like a physical blow. My body jerked forward, my hands gripping the edge of the bed to steady myself. "What?"

"I don't know all the details." Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, her brows furrowing as if she could barely comprehend it herself. "But Nick said he's there."

"No." The word came out as a whisper, then louder, more forceful. "No, he can't be." My heart hammered in my chest, each beat sending a wave of dread through me. My vision blurred as tears welled up in my eyes.

"Chloe," Violet started, but I shook my head, cutting her off.

"He's can't be in the hospital, you must have heard wrong. He's—he's strong. It's Justin we are talking about," I said, my voice trembling with desperation. The thought of him laid out in a hospital bed, vulnerable, hurt, it didn't seem real. It couldn't be real.

"According to Nick, he is," Violet whispered. Her words were soft, but they felt like knives, sharp and undeniable.

"Which hospital?" I asked, my voice breaking. My hands flew to my face, fingers pressing against my temples as if I could hold back the panic threatening to consume me.

Violet stepped closer, placing a tentative hand on my shoulder. "I'll take you," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "Stay close to me, okay?"

I nodded, though my mind was already racing ahead, picturing him alone in a sterile, cold room, surrounded by beeping monitors and harsh fluorescent lights. The image twisted something deep inside me, a grief so raw it was almost unbearable.