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IT WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT TO SAY THAT NO ONE WANTED TO BE IN THE ROOM WHEN VERONA WOKE UP. Unfortunately, Rio had been stuck with the job, as Florence was doing something very stupid. It had been a tense few hours for everyone else. Most were still in shock by what had happened. Florence was put into a position he never wanted to be in. He didn't want to inject her with a sedative, but in the moment he had no idea what she was capable of. She was being reckless. Careless, even. It reminded him how she was that day in the warehouse. The day that caused a domino effect as it ripped them apart piece by piece until there wasn't anything left to tear. Nothing had been the same.
"Where is he?" Rio's attention was adverted to the couch at the sound of Verona's hoarse voice. Her body was weak and frail in the moment, but she was trying her best to stand up. Rio automatically knew who she was talking about, and the scowl on her face just confirmed it even more. He made no effort to answer her question as he fiddled around with his hands, avoiding eye contact with the girl. "I asked you a damn question!" Her voice got louder and more demanding, and it was no question that she had no patience left within her. Her head was pounding and she had an abundance of anger swirling around in her, begging to be released.
Her question wasn't answered by the nervous boy in front of her, but by the sound of the bank doors sliding open. Verona could feel her whole body go rigid, as she immediately sprinted out of the room, ignoring the pain that shot up her body. Rio tried to grab her arm but was unsuccessful, making him take off after her. Verona pushed past the group of hostages, a chorus of screams booming in her ears in response.
Florence was not good at solving things, nor was he a good decision maker. And as he stood outside of the bank doors, no mask covering his face, arms raised, he could finally admit that to himself. He didn't have Verona guiding him, telling him that he was being an imbecile. Well, at least not until he heard her shouting behind him. No one could hold Verona back as she charged out of the bank, not even bothering to shield her face with a mask. All she could think about was the snipers that she knew were aiming right at Florence. Whatever plan or deal he had made, most likely wasn't going to work out in his favor.
Alicia Sierra stood on the opposite side of the courtyard in front of the police tent, Sanaa on her left side, while Emiliano Vasquez was on her right side. Verona didn't have time to process the fact that her father that she thought was in a coma was staring right at her. Her father's eyes were wide, since he was very much aware of what was about to go down. He knew how police were towards criminals. If it wasn't for the gun aimed at his skull, he would've called out to her, begged her to go back inside the safety of the bank. He didn't want to see his daughter lying in a pool of her own blood.
Right as a gun shot echoed through the air, Verona had yanked Florence's body down, shielding his with her own. All was quiet in her ears, besides the sounds of their ragged, uneven breathing-- until she heard her father yell out, being held back by around five policemen as he tried to run to his daughter, who he thought had been shot by the snipers. They forced him onto the ground, holding him in place. From where he stood, his daughter's body was eerily still. But he could have sworn he faintly saw her arm move, but he didn't know if he was hallucinating or not.
