Page 76 of Shattered Echoes

I should be there for her.

My heart is heavy as I consider my situation. I should be the one comforting her, not lying here like a useless lump. I try to move or even utter a word of reassurance to her as her brother drags her away. Yet, despite my best efforts, exhaustion overwhelms me, dragging me back into the depths of unconsciousness. The world fades away, the voices around me growing distant as sleep claims me once more.

I'm sorry, Colette.

25

Colette

Guilt rests on my shoulders as Henry leads me away from Antonio's hospital room. I can't shake the feeling of abandoning him, especially when he had just regained consciousness. It gnaws at me, a relentless ache in my chest that refuses to be ignored.

How could I leave him like that?

As we walk, my mind drifts back to the moment I woke up to Gabi and Henry beside me.

The worry etched into their faces was unmistakable, while Leo continued to pace.

"Are you okay, Colette? Can you stand?" Gabi asks, her voice laced with anxiety. Her concern is always so genuine.

I hate to worry about her.

Henry's inquiry follows, his tone cautious yet brimming with sibling concern. "Are you ill?" he asks, his words tinged with worry. Henry's always been the protective big brother. Sometimes, it smothers me. I understand how Antonio feels when people always treat you like glass.

"I haven't eaten," I confess, the words feeling heavy on my tongue. It’s true. Since learning about Antonio's disappearance, my appetite had vanished, replaced by a knot of anxiety.

Once I catch my breath, there's a sense of urgency driving me forward. "Let's go find Antonio," I say, my voice firm with determination. "I'm okay now. I can stand." And so, we leave the mansion until we reach Antonio's bedside at the hospital.

The sight of him lying there, pale and vulnerable, fills me with a wave of emotion. He looks so fragile, so unlike the vibrant man I know him to be. I try to reassure him, to tell him that everything will be okay. I can’t kiss him because Leo is here. Instead, I settle for a gentle squeeze of his hand.

Now, as I glance at Henry, I can see the tension in his shoulders and the worried look on his face. Henry guides me through the sterile hospital corridors, and I feel a sense of detachment wash over me. It's as though I'm moving through molasses, my thoughts sluggish and unfocused. But beneath the surface, a current of anxiety still simmers, threatening to bubble over at any moment.

"Where are we going?" I murmur, just as we arrive at a door marked "Doctor's Office." Henry pushes the door open, and we step into a small, stark room where a woman in a white coat awaits us.

“Hello, I am Dr. Nia,” she introduces herself, her voice clinical. I nod in response, my mind elsewhere on Antonio.

Dr. Nia's questions come in rapid-fire succession. "Can you tell me what you were doing before you fainted?" she inquires, her tone gentle but insistent. I swallow hard, trying to recall the events leading up to my collapse.

"Um... I was... with my brother. We had just heard that our missing friend was found," I reply, my voice tinged with uncertainty. Dr. Nia nods, jotting down notes on her clipboard before firing off another question.

That warranted a note?

"Have you been experiencing any dizziness or lightheadedness recently?" she asks, her gaze fixed on me. I hesitate, unsure of how much to reveal.

"Just a little," I admit reluctantly, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Dr. Nia nods, her expression thoughtful as she moves on to her next inquiry.

"Do you have a history of fainting spells or similar episodes?" she queries. I shake my head, my heart sinking at the implication of her question.

"No, never," I respond, my mind racing with possibilities. Henry shifts beside me as Dr. Nia finishes her line of questioning.

"Are you feeling okay?" he interjects as he leans in closer.

I nod. "Just tired," I mumble, my words lacking conviction.

Dr. Nia's gaze flickers over to me, her expression unreadable. "When was your last period?" she asks, her tone matter of fact.

I hesitate, my mind racing, to recall the last time I had my period.

Stress, it must be the stress.

---