Chapter Thirty-One: Part Two

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Punk's POV

"Phil?..."

I dropped my phone and stared at the TV in disbelief. I flipped through the channels and this report was everywhere. "This happened in Jersey?"

"Why is she in New Jersey?" I sobbed aloud.

"Phil!? Are you still there?" I picked up my phone.

"Uh. Yeah...Tell Vince I won't be at the live event tonight. I'm flying to New Jersey to be with Angel." Tears continued to roll down my face at the thought of her.

"What if she doesn't make it?" I cried even harder.

"Sansha and I are coming with you."

"I want to talk to him." I heard Sansha say in the background.

"Phil, she's okay, right? She has to be. I can't lose my best friend. I can't lose her... What if she doesn't make it?" Sansha broke down in tears.

"Sansha, don't say that. Sh- She will make it. She will. We just have to count on it. Now go pack your stuff, we're flying to New Jersey." I hung up and threw everything in my luggage and left.

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I ran through the door of the hospital. I looked around for a receptionist, but no one was at the desk. Sansha and Randy asked random people if they knew what room Angel was in.

"Excuse me? Do you know what room Angelina Roberts is in?" I asked a group of nurses. They all shook their heads.

"None of you know?" I looked up at the ceiling in frustration, then someone tapped my shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir?" I turned around.

"What patient are you looking for?" The nurse asked.

"Angelina Roberts. Do you know where she is?" I asked with all the hope that I could muster up. The nurse's expression saddened.

"She's in ICU."

"Can we see her?" Sansha jumped in with Randy right beside her.

"Yes. She's not doing well," the nurse said, motioning us to follow her.

While we were in the elevator, she spoke again.

"She was in a horrible accident early this morning. The driver was pronounced dead about a hour after they were brought in. Did you know him as well? I forgot what his name was. It was something Richards.

"Jason Richards?" I replied.

"Yes, that's it." The elevator doors opened, she stepped out and we followed.

"Alright. This is her room. I'll come back frequently to make sure she is stable."

"Ma'am?" I said before she could walk away.

"Yes?"

"What are her injuries?"

"She suffered brain trauma, deep cuts and bruises. She was rushed into surgery when the paramedic brought her in. She's been in a coma for the past sixteen hours."

"When do you think she will wake up?"

"I don't mean to sound rude or blunt, but right now we don't know if she will wake up because of her traumatic brain injury." With that, she walked away.

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