Zoey P.o.v
Five hours. Five long, agonizing hours of my life. I waited, waited to get even an air of how the treatment was going.
I haven't moved from the living room since, the room stink of the blood that once pooled on the floor. A maid came and wiped the blood away a while ago, but the metallic smell lingered.
I began pacing the living room again, I've lost count of how many times I had paced this room in the last five hours. I kept glancing at the door they disappeared into, hoping one of them will appear, but each time I get disappointed.
I groan and get frustrated, rubbing my hands over my face a hundred times, catching a glimpse of the dried blood on the back of my hand. That was when I took notice, that the blood wasn't just on my hand but was scattered over my front, stai
