ALEX

The world blurs around me as I watch Zoe take the bullet for me. Her body jerks back violently, the impact throwing her off balance, and she stumbles, her feet slipping on the freshly mopped floor. The sickening thud of her head hitting the tiles echoes in my ears, a sound that will haunt me forever. Time slows, stretches, and then freezes entirely. I am locked in place, unable to move, unable to breathe. Guilt, crushing and unbearable, claws at my chest. This is my fault. Zoe is like this because of me. She threw herself in front of me, trying to protect me, and now she's paying the price with her life.

I try to move, but it's as if my body is betraying me. I can't process what I'm seeing, can't grasp what just happened. The chaos around me seems distant, muffled, as if I'm drowning in a thick fog. I can hear people shouting, but it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is Zoe.

Then, the adrenaline hits me, sharp and cold. It cuts through the haze in my mind. I rip my eyes away from Zoe's limp body, the sight of her blood staining the floor like a nightmare I can't wake up from. I hear the rush of footsteps, the sirens wailing in the distance as cops rush in and apprehend the shooter. But none of it registers. None of it matters.

My body moves before my mind catches up, and suddenly I'm kneeling beside Zoe, my hands trembling as I yank my shirt off and press it to the gaping wound on her shoulder. The blood seeps through my fingers, warm and sticky, as I try to stop the bleeding. I'm not sure what I'm doing, but I can't stop. I can't just let her die in front of me.

And then I feel it. The warmth spreading through my fingers isn't just from her shoulder. There's blood on her head too. I freeze, terror flooding my veins. My heart stops. No, no, no. Not this. Not Zoe.

"Aria, please!" My voice is strained, barely a whisper as panic takes hold of me. "Get something else, anything! We need to stop the bleeding on her head." I feel the world shifting beneath my feet as Aria scrambles to find something, anything to help. Her hands are shaking as she retrieves another cloth, and together we try to apply pressure to both of her wounds. Every moment feels like a ticking clock, counting down to something I can't control.

The air feels thick, suffocating, and I can't breathe. My mind is spinning, trying to make sense of everything, trying to fix what I've broken. "I'm so sorry, Zoe," I whisper, the words thick with emotion. Tears burn at the back of my eyes, but I won't let them fall. Not yet. Not when she's still here, still with me, still breathing, even if just barely. "I'm so sorry," I say again, my voice breaking as I try to stop the flood of guilt, the heavy weight pressing down on me.

Zoe's friends rush to us, their faces pale with fear, their voices panicked. They crowd around us, offering their own desperate pleas for Zoe to wake up. "Zoe, please," I beg, my voice hoarse. "Don't leave me. I can't lose you."

Yash checks for a pulse, his hands trembling as he places his fingers on her wrist. The seconds feel like years. The panic in his eyes is enough to send a chill through my bones. "There's no pulse," he says, his voice barely a whisper, filled with disbelief.

No. No, this isn't happening. This can't be real.

"Start CPR!" I shout, my voice trembling with panic. My hands are shaking so violently that I almost can't bring myself to touch her chest, but I do. I press down with all my strength, desperately trying to revive her, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Zoe, please," I beg, my voice cracking. "Come back. You can't leave me."

I press harder, my palms slick with blood, my whole body trembling with fear and desperation. Each second without a response feels like an eternity. The pain in my chest intensifies with every failed compression. I need her to wake up. I need her to breathe. I can't do this without her.

And then, just as the world seems to darken, something shifts. A weak flutter of her pulse beneath my fingers. A breath. It's small, fragile, but it's enough. My heart leaps in my chest, a spark of hope igniting in the pit of my stomach.

"We need to get her to the hospital," I growl, my voice full of raw determination. I can't wait for an ambulance. I won't.

Without another word, I scoop Zoe up in my arms, cradling her as if she's the most precious thing in the world. Her body is limp in my arms, but she's breathing, she's still here, and that's all that matters.

"Fuck the medics. Get in the car, we're going now!" I shout, urgency thick in my voice. The driver doesn't hesitate, pulling the car up quickly. We're speeding down the street before I even realize what's happening. I cradle Zoe tighter against my chest, pressing my cheek to hers, whispering soft, broken words into her ear. "Please, Zoe, wake up. I love you. I'm so sorry."

Leah is crying beside me, her words a blur in the chaos. "Zoe, please," she whispers, but I can barely hear her. All I can hear is the frantic beat of my own heart and the rush of adrenaline in my veins.

And then, through the haze of panic, I feel it. Her hand moves in mine. It's weak, but it's there. She's alive.

"Zoe?" I choke out, my voice a raw whisper.

Her fingers tighten around mine, and my breath hitches in my throat. She's still here. She's still fighting.

"We're almost there," Leah says, her voice shaking with emotion.

I don't care how close we are to the hospital. I don't care about anything but Zoe. I'll never let her go again.

When we pull into the hospital, I barely wait for the car to stop before I'm out, carrying her inside, my heart pounding in my chest. The nurse is quick to respond, a stretcher brought to us, and Zoe is whisked away to the ER. I'm stopped at the door.

"You can't come in," the nurse says, her voice gentle but firm.

I step back, my whole body sagging with defeat as the doors close behind her. The last thing I hear is the sound of the machines beeping, the frantic voices of the doctors, and the sickening silence of everything else.

And I wait.

For her.

For Zoe.