Hailey's POV
I felt a pang in my chest as I thought of how Kingsley may be struggling for his life in the theater room.
A surge of emotions filled me as I kept staring into the blank space.
My brother patted my back as he led me to the waiting chair.
I slumped into a leather chair that's too soft to be comforting, my back straight, my hands folded on my lap.
I cried, I prayed, and I hoped for Kingsley to awaken soon.
The blood on my dress has dried.
It's no longer red. The bright red colour turned a dull brown, stiffening the fabric where it soaked in. I keep noticing it in my peripheral vision, like a stain that refuses to be ignored no matter how many times I look away.
The hallway is quiet in that expensive way hospitals reserve for people with . Thick carpet.
