Carrie-Ann
I only got to see Ayla again two days after she woke up. Waiting for that moment felt like waiting to open a birthday present—except way scarier.
I kept rolling back and forth in the third-floor hallway like a nervous hamster, speeding up a little, stopping, speeding up again. The nurses passing by kept giving me these tiny smiles—not the ‘aww, cute kid’ kind, but the ‘please don’t let her sneak into the VIP again’ kind.
The second her room was finally open for visitors, I rushed in so fast Matt had to grab my wheelchair before I crashed into the wall.
Ayla was sitting up with a big pillow behind her back. Her blonde hair was still messy, her cheeks still pale, but her eyes—oh wow—her eyes were open. And she was looking at me.
I swallowed. “H-hi…”
She stared at me for a mo
