Hours later
"Mr. Cavarallo, are you awake? Can you see me?" Frantic voices hovered above me, calling, asking.
I nodded subtly, fluttering my eyes open to a sharp blinding light.
"You need to work on whatever light you're using, turn it off," I ordered, squinting my eyes to adjust to the light.
"How are you feeling now Mr Cavarallo?" The doctor asked again.
"Like I got dragged through hell and stitched back together with barbed wire," I muttered, throat dry as sandpaper. My lips cracked when I moved them, and every breath I took felt like needles pricking my lungs.
The doctor chuckled awkwardly. "That's... expected. You lost a lot of blood. We had to remove two bullets, one close to your chest, and you flatlined once. But you made it. You're lucky to be alive."
I scoffed, turning my
