3rd person Pov
After the doctors had pried a broken, bloody Kelani from Lenna's desperate grip, the mansion felt as if it were holding its breath. Lenna stormed into the living room, wild with grief and rage, and screamed at her father, words battering the walls and every guilty heart present. Hayden intercepted her before she reached Xavier, arms locked around her chest as she thrashed and sobbed, her voice echoing: "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"
Xavier, still as stone, sat on the sofa, his face a cold mask that barely hid the guilt and shock swirling underneath. His hands rested on his knees, and he stared at the hallway as if sheer force of will might turn back time and undo what he'd set in motion.
Amara sat motionless on the edge of the opposite sofa, her hands twisting in her lap, her eyes hollow and red-rimmed. She stared at the stained carpet where Lenna had rushed in, leaving those dark bloody footprints that seemed to promise a tragedy even before anyone spoke.
Across from her, Tara hugged her infant son to her chest and rocked automatically, unable to process the violence, the shrieking, the sight of Lenna with blood all down her arms and clothes.
Kario paced restlessly, his shoes creaking on the wood floor, chewing at his thumbnail—a worried look locked on his face. Every few seconds, his eyes darted to the door, as if expecting to see the little girl reappear, healthy, and whole.
Every Spellman in the room knew, deep down, that they had failed. None more so than Xavier, who would not—or could not—speak his part in any of this aloud.
When Hayden was sure Lenna wouldn't physically attack their father, he let go and rejoined the others, leaving Lenna by the front door, shaking and wet-eyed.
That was the moment when they heard pounding feet on the stairs. Amirah, hair wild, face streaked and desperate, thundered into the living room in a panic. All conversation died instantly; guilt and dread knotted in every stomach. They watched her movements, trading anxious glances as Amirah moved straight to the sofa, where she snatched up a tiny sock—Kelani's—and held it up with trembling hands.
Her panic was palpable. "Where is she?" she demanded, eyes wide, flashing the sock at each of them. "Why is my child's sock down here?"
The silence was as thick as smoke, so oppressive that none of them even dared breathe. Amirah's hands shook. "Tell me where my daughter is!" she screamed, her pain slicing through every heart in the room.
Hayden and Kario exchanged looks, both knowing someone would have to break the news. Hayden glanced to the others, and when he saw them nod, he took a breath to speak—
But Lenna walked in, blood still spattered down her shirt and arms. Amirah spun on her heel, wild-eyed. Lenna froze, tears spilling over as she came face-to-face with the destruction Xavier's plan had wreaked.
Amirah asked, voice quivering, "Why are you covered in blood? Are you hurt?"
Lenna met her sister's eyes and choked out, "No, this isn't my blood."
Amirah's desperation turned to horror. "Whose blood is it, Lenna?" she demanded. The horror in her voice made everyone flinch.
Lenna's voice broke. "I… I tried to stop the bleeding, Mira. I tried. Her little body was all injured from the fall, but the cut on her arm—" She broke down, sobbing.
To Lenna it was like seeing her twin sister die standing up. Amirah stumbled backward, clutching her chest, and then she screamed, "STOP LYING, LENNA! THAT'S NOT MY BABY'S BLOOD! TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!" Her voice cracked, desperate, raw. "WHERE IS SHE? WHERE IS MY BABY?"
Amara stepped forward, anguish on her face. "Lenna is telling the truth, Amirah. She tried to save the child."
"LIAR! STOP IT, STOP IT! WHERE IS MY BABY GIRL?" Amirah's hands trembled so badly she could barely hold her self up as she stared at the blood that is now on her hands. Her eyes hunted each face, wild and terrified.
Hayden edged forward and gently said, "She's in surgery, with the best doctors. They're doing everything—"
Lenna, sobbing, moved in front of Amirah. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Mira."
Amirah's voice dropped to a pleading whisper as she clutched at her twin's bloody shirt without even thinking about it, "Please. Please, tell me this is just a dream, Lenna. Please tell me this is fake blood. It can't—she can't… her little body can't handle that much blood loss, so please, tell me you're joking."
Lenna, helpless, could only whisper, "I'd never lie about something like that. She's with the doctors now, Mira."
Amirah broke, collapsing against the wall, staring at her hands in horror and disbelief. The rest of the family could only watch her crumble, unable to touch her, unable to comfort her, forced to bear the pain she wore so plainly.
"How… how could this happen? She was asleep with me… I felt her on me when I fell asleep…. How did she get out? My darkness… my wolves… the barrier was up—" Amirah mumbled to herself, lost in shock.
Nobody spoke Xavier's name. Nobody told Amirah what he'd done. Guilt hovered, unspoken, over the whole family.
She sat on the floor, numb, surrounded by family who all felt powerless. The only sounds were her broken sobs and muffled regrets.
Then the double doors from the medical wing flew open and two doctors entered. Amirah leaped to her feet and rushed to meet them, her face shattered with hope and fear.
"Where is she? Is my baby okay? Can I see her now, please?" she begged, looking for any glimpse of her child behind them.
The family crowded behind Amirah, silent and desperate for good news.
The doctor looked at the roomful of Spellmans and then at Amirah, sighing heavily. "The patient is in critical condition," he began. "She lost a lot of blood, has pins in her right hand. The deep cut and the fall she had some small cuts on her but due to the big gash from her shoulder down to her wrist we had to put her bone back in place. She loss a lot of blood due to the gash going down her arm. She's unconscious, and I'm afraid her small body might not be able to take it much longer because the gash heat some of her arteries and some of her bones where shattered. Due to these much trauma on her little body she would be in a coma and with oxygen I'm so sorry."
The words left Amirah frozen in place. Her world stopped, the news like a sick joke. The rest of the family gasped—some even cried out. Xavier, in back, finally couldn't cover the guilt anymore; it painted his expression with a pain he'd never shown before.
Amirah rounded on the doctor, voice shaking with rage and disbelief:
The doctor's words hung in the air, cold and definitive. "I'm so sorry."
Amirah's face, which had been a mask of desperate hope, contorted into a grimace of pure horror. Her gaze darted from the doctor's kind, pitying eyes to his white coat, as if searching for a hidden joke. But there was no punchline, only the quiet, awful truth.
"No." The word was a shattered whisper. "No, you're lying. You're lying! She's my baby. She's fine. She's strong. She's just a little girl! How could… how could this happen?"
Her voice rose from a choked plea to a hysterical shriek that clawed its way from the deepest part of her soul. She lurched forward, grabbing the doctor by the lapels of his coat, her knuckles white.
"What do you mean, 'she might not be able to take it'?! Don't you dare say that! You go back in there and you fix her! You put her bones back together, you stitch her up, you wake her up! You tell her mommy's here, and she needs to wake up! Don't you tell me you're sorry! You're a doctor! You're supposed to save her!"
Tears, hot and blinding, streamed down her cheeks, washing away the dirt and dried blood, leaving clean, raw tracks of pain. She wasn't begging anymore; she was demanding, her voice raw and ragged, torn to shreds by grief.
"She's a child! How could her bones be shattered? Shattered?! What are you talking about?! Who did this? Did you do this?! You tell me who did this to my baby!"
She turned, her wild eyes sweeping over the family, her gaze settling on the blood on Lenna's clothes. A fresh wave of agony hit her as she remembered the feeling of that little sock, the blood on Lenna's arms. The lie in her mind—that it was all a bad dream—finally gave way to the brutal truth.
She let go of the doctor and staggered backward, holding her head as if to keep it from splitting open. She dropped to her knees, a guttural, wounded sound escaping her lips. It was the sound of a mother's heart being torn from her chest, of a universe collapsing. Her family watched, helpless, their own guilt like a physical weight on their shoulders as they bore witness to her agony.
Amirah's screams echoed through the silent mansion—a primal symphony of loss.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WHAT DO YOU MEAN SAY YOUR GOODBYES? SHE'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE. MY DAUGHTER IS NOT DYING. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? IS THIS SOME SICK JOKE? TAKE ME TO HER. I WANT TO SEE HER NOW."
The doctors nodded and led her away as fast as they could. The rest of the Spellman family trailed slowly behind, stricken and guilt-ridden.
For a long moment, the only sound left was the haunted echo of Amirah's pain, and the family's silent realization that come morning, nothing might ever be the same again.