H A I L E Y
F O U R Y E A R S L A T E R
Rain pelted against the windshield of my car as I swerved into the hospital’s underground parking lot, my tires screeching slightly from the speed.
My chest was tight, my breath shallow, fingers trembling as they gripped the steering wheel. The call had come less than twenty minutes ago, snapping me out of a moment of peace and quiet.
Liam had just fallen asleep in our neighbor's house, Mrs. Alvarez, and I was halfway through brushing my teeth when the emergency call came in.
“He’s dying,” the nurse’s voice crackled through the phone. “We don’t know what to do. He’s… not human.”
That was all it took.
The moment I slammed the car door shut, my sneakers pounded against the concrete as I ran through the staff entrance, my ID already in hand.
