The hospital hallway was too bright. It was a cold, fluorescent white that made Aliya’s eyes ache, but she didn’t blink. She couldn’t. She felt that if she closed her eyes for even a second, she’d see the silver SUV again, feel the sickening lurch of the world turning upside down, and hear Carroll’s scream cut short by the roar of twisting tal.
Every step toward the room next door felt like walking through deep water. Her ribs throbbed with every breath—a sharp, stabbing reminder of the impact—but the physical pain was nothing compared to the leaden, suffocating weight in her stomach.
"Slow down, Aliya," Martha whispered, her hand firm on her daughter’s arm.
Aliya didn’t respond. She couldn’t find her voice; it was buried deep under a mountain of sha.
As they rounded the corner, she saw him. Mr. Vance was leaning against the wall outside Carroll’s room, his head in his hands. He looked ten years older than the last ti Aliya had seen him at their dorm move-in. His shirt was wrinkled, his posture defeated, and his eyes were bloodshot when he finally looked up.
When his gaze t hers, Aliya’s knees simply gave out.
She didn’t just try to apologize; she wanted to disappear into the hospital floor, to be swallowed by the cold linoleum. She began to sink, her hands reaching for the tiles, her body folding into a deep, desperate crouch of atonent.
"Mr. Vance... please... I’m so sorry," she choked out, her voice a ragged, ugly sliver of itself.
"Aliya! No, stop that," Mr. Vance barked. There was no malice in his voice, only a frantic alarm. He and Martha caught her before her knees could hit the ground, hauling her back up by her elbows.
"You’re going to hurt yourself, sweetie," Martha chided softly, her own eyes brimming with tears as she felt how much Aliya was trembling.
"It’s my fault," Aliya sobbed, the words spilling out like an open wound. "It was my car. I was the one driving. I should have seen the car coming. If... if I had just seen it. Carroll is in there because of ."
Mr. Vance gripped her shoulders. His hands were shaking, too. "Listen to , Aliya. I’m a father. My first instinct was to find soone to bla. I wanted to scream at the world. But then I saw the police report. I saw what happened. You didn’t drive into that SUV. It hunted you. That isn’t on you. Though the driver ran away, the police will find him."
He took a shaky breath, trying to steady his voice for her sake. "And because of Jake... because of your brother... Carroll is in a private suite with three specialists watching her around the clock. They said she’s going to walk again. She’s going to be okay. We could never have afforded this, Aliya. Never."
The words were ant to comfort her, but they only made Aliya feel worse. ’Jake’s money. It was always the money. It could fix the bones, it could buy the best surgeons, but it couldn’t fix the hollow look in Mr. Vance’s eyes.’
"She’s awake," Mr. Vance said, clearing his throat and stepping aside. "She’s been asking for you. Go. Talk to her."
Martha stayed by the door, her back to the wood. She watched Aliya take a trembling, jagged breath and reach for the handle. In that mont, Martha didn’t see the fierce, sharp-tongued girl who spent her evenings debating business ethics with Jake. She saw the little girl who used to hide behind the curtains when she broke a plate. Aliya was putting on a brave face for the world, but here, in the shadow of Carroll’s suffering, the mask wasn’t just slipping—it was shattered.
Just as Aliya began to push the door open, the handle turned from the inside.
Carroll’s mother stepped out. Her eyes were red-rimd and hard. When she saw Aliya, she froze.
Aliya imdiately lowered her head, her body tensing as she tried to bend into another apology, her lips moving to form the words ’I’m sorry.’ But the woman didn’t wait to hear them. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t even touch Aliya as she brushed past her, her silence more devastating than a slap across the face.
Aliya stood frozen in the doorway for a long beat, the rejection stinging like an open wound. Then, she forced herself to step inside.
The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic, haunting hiss of the oxygen machine.
Carroll looked... wrong. She was usually so vibrant, so full of movent. Now, she was pinned to the bed by tubes and a heavy cast that seed to swallow her leg. A thick bandage was wrapped around her head, and her face—the face that had been laughing just monts before the crash—was a dark, swollen purple.
Aliya stood at the foot of the bed, her hands clenched so tightly her nails drew blood from her palms. The guilt was a physical pressure in her throat.
’Why isn’t it ?’ she thought, the question screaming in her head. ’I’m the one who was driving, the one who got us here. Why is she the one paying the price?’
A tear escaped, hot and silent, trailing down Aliya’s cheek.
"You look terrible," a weak, raspy voice whispered.
Aliya jumped slightly, her eyes locking onto Carroll’s. Carroll was squinting, one eye barely open through the swelling, but there was a flicker of that old, familiar spark in it.
"Is that... is that the ’Unbending Aliya Rivers’?" Carroll croaked, a tiny, pained ghost of a smile touching her lips. "Crying in a hospital room? What would your brother say?"
Aliya let out a broken, wet laugh, wiping her face frantically. "That version of ... she’s taking a break today. She couldn’t make it."
"Bumr," Carroll whispered, her chest rising in a shallow, labored breath. "You could really use her. I’m the one in the bed, and you look like you’re the one who needs a sedative."
Aliya moved closer, her heart breaking with every inch. She reached the side of the bed, her voice trembling. "Carroll, I..."
"It’s okay, you don’t need to—"
"I have to say it. I am so—"
"Don’t," Carroll interrupted, her voice gaining a sudden, surprising firmness. "If you say you’re sorry, I’m going to tell the nurse to kick you out."
"But Carroll—"
"No." Carroll’s hand, the one without the IV, twitched on the sheet. "It was a car, Ali. A car and a bad man. You didn’t pull the trigger. You were just there. We were both just there."
"You’re hurt so much worse," Aliya whispered, her voice cracking. "I have a concussion and so bruises. You’re... you’re broken. Because of ."
"It’s just bad luck," Carroll said, her voice fading as the exhaustion took hold again. "That’s all life is sotis. Bad luck and bad timing. Don’t let them win by making you believe you did this."
Aliya sank into the chair beside the bed, her voice a whisper. "Did you see him? I keep trying to rember, but... one second we were talking about the trip, and the next, the world was screaming."
Carroll’s eyes drifted toward the ceiling, her brow furrowing under the bandage. "I didn’t see anything. Just a flash of silver. It happened so fast. Like the car just... materialized out of nowhere. One mont the intersection was empty, and the next, it was just there. There wasn’t even ti to bark a warning."
Aliya nodded slowly, a shiver running down her spine. "I didn’t see it either. Not until the mont of impact. It was like a ghost."
A heavy silence settled between them, broken only by the hum of the monitors. After a mont, Carroll looked at Aliya again, her gaze shifting toward the corner of the room.
"Hey, Ali?"
"Yeah?"
"The shopping," Carroll whispered, her voice sounding small. "All those bags we had in the back... did they survive? I had those designer heels I’d been eyeing for weeks. I really liked them."
Aliya let out a shaky breath, a sad smile touching her lips. "I... I’m not sure, Carroll. I’ve never been in an accident before. I don’t really know how it works with recovering things from a wreck."
Carroll sighed, a wince of pain following the movent. "It’s a sha. Those were nice shoes."
"Don’t worry about it," Aliya said, her voice finally steadying. She straightened her back, her steel beginning to forge itself anew. "We’ll just buy new ones. Better ones."
Carroll looked at her. "What?"
"Listen to . When you get out of here—and you are getting out of here—we are going on a trip. Not a weekend getaway. A real trip. Anywhere in the world you want to go. I’m going to make Jake pay for everything. First class, five stars, the works. We’ll replace everything we lost and then so."
Carroll closed her eyes, a small, genuine chuckle vibrating in her chest. "Aliya... you don’t have to... Jake’s already doing so much..."
"I’m not asking, Carroll," Aliya said, her eyes flashing with that stubborn, lethal light. "I’m telling you. It’s happening. You pick the place. I’ll handle the billionaire."
Carroll’s smile widened just a fraction, despite the bruises. "I guess... I guess the break is over, huh?"
Aliya reached out, very gently, and touched Carroll’s fingers. "Yeah. It’s over."
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