Page 57 of Bossy Grump's Secret

"It doesn't help allay what I'm feeling, Lily. I swear it, it doesn't. All I had to do was agree not to come. He had already understood." I cry my heart out.

"All we had to do was not come to work," she counters. "All we had to do was go to Portrero Hills and not settle for filling our stomachs. All we had to do is not to be born." She takes hold of my hands and gives them a reassuring squeeze. “Every experience is born out of action. Stop blaming yourself for making decisions you never anticipated the outcome of just because things went wrong."

I can't control the tears that flood my face. "I love you, Lily."

"Aw, come here, mama." She opens her arms wide, and I sink into them, letting the rest of my tears stream through the ride and into the hospital.

When we get to the hospital, they immediately attend to the wound on my head, but being just a minor cut, they don't have to do much. They give me some pills to suppress the headache, only to quickly retract them when I reveal I'm pregnant. Another set of pills is issued to me, and I leave to meet Lily in the waiting room. We go to the ICU, where they say Dylan will stay overnight to determine his condition since he hasn't come yet.

When I get there, I see someone I have never seen before…a young girl just about my age, maybe younger. She sits unmoving by the bed, looking over his vulnerable unconscious form.

"Ava, good evening. Are you okay?"

I nod, still confused about who she is and why she now knows me but more worried about my boyfriend.

"How is he?" I move closer to him.

"He'll remain here for a while. He's not in a coma…just sleeping at this point," she answers. "I'm Layla." She extends her hand for a shake, and I take it, recollecting what Dylan had told me about his sister. They share the same dark hair, green eyes, and tomboyish appearance - easily depicted by her hoodie and combat joggers paired with high tops. I would've assumed she borrowed it all from Dylan until I realized they definitely didn't wear the same size.

"Ava," I introduced myself, thinking how rude I must have sounded not doing so initially. "... but it seems you already knew that."

"I guessed," she chuckles. "Your description is unmistakable at home."

Huh.

"And you must be Lily. Where there's Ava, there's Lily. That's what he'd say." She talks to my friend, who has been behind me the entire while.

She gives a shy wave and steps out of my shadow to acquaint herself properly. While they're at it, I stretch my hands to remove a strand of hair from Dylan’s face. It could cause a tickle when he becomes conscious.

"Keep your hands away from my son!" A voice booms behind me, causing everyone to cringe. I turn around to see a woman I do not recognize except the man beside her.

"Mrs. Belfrost." I gasp.

"Miss Persson, am I right?" she asks. There is grief in her voice, but the power reverberating from her very aura is difficult to miss. Not to mention the man beside her. My voice ceases, and speaking becomes a thing of the past. All I can do is nod.

"I did not know what you children were doing or what possessed you to go outside at night at such late hours. It could have gone wrong. What a fool the both of you were!" she cries.

"Mom!" Layla winces, but her mother pays her no heed.

Here I am, still trying to process that Dylan is the son of the Belfrost family... yes, the actual son of the Belfrost family!

"The main reason we hide his identity is to protect him from criminals, crooks, and thugs. I was so naïve that it would stay that way for long..."

I can't even bear it. Before she continued, I stormed past her. It's better to be somewhere else than stay and endure the embarrassment of Lily and me being called criminals.

...and Dylan has more than enough explaining to do when he wakes up.

Dylan

My head hurts. No, my eye. Scratch that. Both my head and my eyes hurt…but especially my eyes. I should shut them…

“Dylan?”

That sounds like my sister. I have to get a closer look. Shi…!!! No, my eyes have to stay closed. Besides, this could just be a hallucination…or a coma. I hear people have very clear, vivid dreams in a coma, in verisimilitude to the real world…but my head isn’t supposed to hurt if I’m still inside a coma, is it?

“Dylan! Mom! Get a doctor!”

Ah, there's the voice again. No matter how much it hurts to look, I have to see who it is…no matter how much it hurts.

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