The Call

The hospital staff worked quickly to identify her.

Sophia had been unconscious when she arrived, barely breathing, body bruised, eyes closed.

Her name wasn't spoken. But her purse was nearby — dropped, untouched, and strangely left behind.

Inside were her ID, her student card, a few dollars, and a small notebook she used to jot down class notes.

The nurse flipped through it, then found what she needed.

Sophia Thomas

Maple Hall, Evergreen University

Emergency Contact: Thomas, Nathan — (555) 423-8910

She handed the details to the officer in charge.

He nodded.

And made the call.

The phone rang once.

Twice.

Then a deep voice answered.

"Thomas residence. This is her father."

The officer cleared his throat. "Sir, I'm calling from Evergreen General Hospital. Your daughter Sophia Thomas was involved in an accident."

There was silence.

Then a sharp inhale.

"Is she okay?" her father asked, voice suddenly tight.

"We're stabilizing her," the officer said carefully. "We're not sure yet."

The line went dead — not from being hung up, but because her father had already turned to her mother, eyes wide with panic.

"She's in the hospital," he said.

And the world shattered.

Daniel had been in the middle of a meeting.

His phone was on silent, tucked into his jacket.

But when it rang — again and again — he finally pulled it out.

One missed call.

Then another.

Then a text from Nathan:

Sophia's in the hospital. She was hit by a bus.

Daniel didn't wait for the meeting to end.

He stood, excused himself — barely remembering the words — and walked out.

Then ran.

Then drove like he was chasing time itself.

Because if he didn't get there soon…

If he didn't see her breathing with his own eyes…

He was going to lose his mind.

He arrived at 10:30 PM, still in his work clothes, tie loosened, breath uneven.

Nathan was already there — pacing the floor like a man who couldn't sit still.

"What happened?" Daniel asked, voice tight.

Nathan looked up, face pale. "They don't know yet. She was running after someone. Then the bus hit her."

Daniel's stomach dropped.

He sank into the chair beside Nathan.

And asked the question he couldn't stop thinking.

"Is she awake?"

Nathan shook his head. "No. They said she's stable, but not conscious."

Daniel closed his eyes.

His hands clenched.

Because the girl who had loved him for years was now lying in a hospital bed — bruised, broken, and silent.

And he had been too late to stop it.

Daniel stood suddenly.

Began pacing.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

He didn't sit.

Didn't talk.

Just moved like he could burn the guilt out of his chest.

He had known.

He had known something was wrong the moment she chased that thief.

He should've been there.

Should've stopped her.

Should've protected her.

But he hadn't.

Because he had been at work.

Because he had been trying to keep his distance.

Because he had been scared.

And now?

Now she was paying the price.

The officer came back a few minutes later, notebook in hand.

He looked at Daniel.

"We found the purse," the officer said. "It was left behind. Not taken."

Daniel frowned. "So the thief didn't even want it?"

The officer shook his head. "Doesn't look like it."

Daniel stayed quiet.

Because he already knew.

The purse wasn't the target.

She was.

Someone had wanted to scare her.

To hurt her.

To make her disappear.

And now, he was going to find out who.

Daniel sat back down, staring at the clock.

He had spent years ignoring her feelings.

Telling himself she was just Sophia.

Nathan's sister.

The quiet girl who followed him around.

But now?

Now she was lying in a hospital bed.

And he was the one pacing the floor like a man who had just lost his heart.

Because he had.

And if she didn't wake up…

He didn't know if he could live with himself.