Christopher's POV
I glanced at Jasmine's unconscious body in the passenger seat, her head lolled against the window. The sedative I'd slipped her would keep her out for at least a couple of hours. More than enough time.
My hands tightened on the steering wheel as I sped toward the hospital. Time was running out. My mother's condition worsened daily, and Jasmine's stubborn refusal to cooperate had pushed me to this point.
This was her fault. All of it.
If she'd just agreed from the beginning, none of this would be necessary.
I pulled into the hospital parking lot and cut the engine. For a moment, I sat there, staring at her peaceful face, and felt absolutely nothing. No guilt. No remorse.
She was a means to an end. That's all she'd ever been.
I got out, moved to her side, and lifted
