Amara POV
The ride to the hospital blurred past Amara in fragments she could hardly hold onto. The rain-slick streets reflected the harsh glow of streetlamps, and Emily's uneven breathing in the backseat was all she could focus on. Adrian's hands were steady on the wheel, his face carved in concentration, but Amara's own fingers trembled as she clutched Emily's purse. Every traffic light felt like it was against them. Every second ticked louder, like a cruel reminder that time was not on their side.
When they finally pulled into the emergency wing, Amara practically jumped out before the car had fully stopped. Her shoes slapped against the tiled floor of the hospital corridor, echoing her heartbeat. The smell of antiseptic mixed with something metallic, and the fluorescent lights cast everyone in a harsh, unforgiving glow.
She rushed to the counter where a nurse sat, flipping through papers like she had all the time in the world. "Please," Amara's voice cracked, breathless. "My friend… she was in an accident, she needs help...now."
The nurse barely looked up. "Take a seat, someone will attend to you shortly."
Amara stared at her in disbelief. "Shortly? She's hurt! She's bleeding...." She pointed toward the door where Adrian was already guiding Emily in, his arm around her shoulders. Emily looked so fragile in that moment, pale and shivering, like a doll that had been tossed around.
"Ma'am," the nurse interrupted, her voice sharp, "you have to wait for your turn."
Anger flared hot in Amara's chest. She wanted to scream, to demand that someone do something. She turned, scanning the corridor for anyone else in scrubs. Doctors walked past briskly, their eyes averted as though she and Emily were invisible. Another nurse appeared with a clipboard, speaking to someone else like this was just another evening shift.
"Adrian...." Her voice broke as she grabbed his sleeve. "They're not listening. They're not...."
"I know," he said quietly, his voice steady in a way that made her cling to it. His hand brushed her wrist gently, grounding her. "Let me handle it."
"But..."
"Amara." His tone carried a calm certainty that made her stop. His gaze, steady and unwavering, met hers. "I'll take care of it."
She hesitated, chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. She wanted to argue, but there was something in the way he said it....like there was no doubt in his mind that he could fix this....that made her step back.
Adrian reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He stepped aside, out of earshot, but Amara couldn't help watching him. He dialed quickly, his voice low but clipped, urgent in a way she had never heard before. His eyes, sharp and commanding, softened only once when they flickered back to Emily for a brief second.
Amara bit her lip, her hands twisted together so tightly her knuckles turned white. Who was he calling?
Within ten minutes, the atmosphere shifted entirely. A man in a tailored suit strode down the corridor, his ID badge catching the fluorescent light: Hospital Director. Behind him trailed a small group of nurses and doctors, their pace brisk, their faces suddenly alert.
"Where is she?" the director demanded.
Adrian stepped forward, his arm steady around Emily as if he'd been expecting this exact response. "Here."
The man's eyes flicked to Adrian for a second, something like recognition passing between them, before he gestured to the staff. "Get her into a ward immediately. Full evaluation, priority case."
In an instant, the same hospital that had turned them away minutes ago erupted into motion. Two nurses wheeled a stretcher forward, and Emily was gently eased onto it. They rushed her down the hall, doctors already speaking in urgent medical terms Amara couldn't catch.
Amara stood frozen, her mouth slightly open. The suddenness of it all left her dizzy. One moment they were invisible, begging for help; the next, the hospital director himself was personally attending to them.
Her eyes darted to Adrian. He stood calmly, phone tucked away, as though this was nothing unusual. His face didn't reveal much...composed, collected, his shoulders loose in quiet control.
"How… how did you..." she began, her voice low, uncertain.
He turned to her, and for the briefest moment, his expression softened. "I told you I'd take care of it."
That was all. No explanation, no detail. Just that quiet certainty again.
Amara swallowed, her questions pressing at the back of her throat, but she stayed silent. This wasn't the moment to pry. Emily was being wheeled away, and her focus snapped back to her best friend. She hurried after the doctors, Adrian walking beside her.
The hours blurred into each other in the waiting room. Amara sat hunched forward, her elbows on her knees, hands clasped tightly. The clock on the wall ticked too loudly, every minute stretching unbearably long. She replayed the accident in her head over and over...the call, the panic, Emily's weak voice. What if they had been too late? What if the delay had cost them more than time?
Her leg bounced restlessly. She hated waiting. She hated not knowing.
Adrian sat beside her, calm in his silence. His presence was solid, like an anchor she hadn't realized she needed. Occasionally, she'd glance at him from the corner of her eye. He leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, his hands folded loosely in his lap. His face gave little away, but she caught the faint crease in his brow, the way his jaw tightened every so often.
"Do you think she'll be okay?" Amara whispered finally, her voice fragile.
He turned to her, and though his reply was short, it carried weight. "Yes."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because she's in good hands now."
The conviction in his voice made her exhale shakily. She wanted to believe him. She needed to.
A nurse eventually came out, her expression more relaxed than before. "She's stable. We've admitted her into a ward for observation."
Relief washed over Amara so hard she almost slumped in her chair. Her eyes stung, but she blinked quickly, refusing to let tears fall here, in front of Adrian. She nodded, whispering a quiet, "Thank you."
They followed the nurse to the ward. Emily lay in a bed, an IV drip attached, her chest rising and falling in even breaths. Amara's heart unclenched at the sight. She moved to the bedside, her fingers brushing Emily's hand gently.
"She'll wake up soon," the nurse reassured.
When they were finally alone in the ward, Amara sat quietly, her hand still holding Emily's. She felt Adrian's gaze on her, but when she looked up, he had already turned toward the window, his face half-hidden in shadow.
Her mind returned to that phone call. The way the entire hospital had moved at his word. The director addressing him like someone important.
She wanted to ask. Who are you, Adrian?
But when she opened her mouth, the words caught in her throat. Instead, she whispered, "Thank you."
He glanced at her, and for the first time all evening, a faint smile touched his lips. It was small, fleeting, but it lit something in her chest.
"Rest, Amara," he said softly. "She's safe now."
Amara nodded, but she knew sleep would not come easily. Not with questions swirling in her mind. Not with the image of Adrian standing so confidently, making one phone call that changed everything.
As she sat there, the sound of rain still tapping against the windows, one thought refused to leave her:
Adrian wasn't just the quiet, distant partner she'd been paired with in class. There was more to him. Much more.
And she was determined to find out.