I ran through the hospital doors with Cain slung over my back, his body limp, his breathing shallow. His blood soaked through my shirt, but I barely felt it. Delilah was right behind me, her footsteps frantic against the tiled floor.
“Help! "Someone help us!” she cried, her voice echoing through the hallway.
A team of nurses and doctors rushed toward us, their expressions shifting to alarm the moment they saw Cain’s condition.
“He’s been stabbed,” I said, my voice tight. “I stopped the bleeding, but he needs a surgeon.”
One of the doctors nodded sharply, gesturing toward a gurney. “Put him here.”
I gently laid Cain down, watching as they wheeled him away, pushing him toward the ICU. Delilah made a move to follow, but a nurse stepped in her way.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. You have to wait out
