Epilogue
I hated hospitals. The somber mood. The smell. God, the smell was the worst. The potent scent of antiseptic was almost bitter, with undertones of artificial cleaners. The fluorescent lights were harsh and merely highlighted the dreary beige colors that did nothing to brighten an already somber ambiance. Ever since my mother died, I couldn’t stand the thought of hospitals, not to mention being inside one.
The beep of the heart monitor reminded me that he was still breathing. They’d kept him in an induced coma since he tried to rip the IV out once he started to regain consciousness. For his body to heal, he needed rest, and to remain calm.
“My guess is Gianni knew.” Saint crossed his legs as he sat down in the chair next to mine. “Gianni knew he had to make Elijah’s reality his.”
