Elle's Pov
The last thing I remember is Elise's voice. Not just crying but sounding like she'd been hollowed out.
"I've lost her, Marielle."
I didn't quite understand the words. They just drifted between us like ghosts. We were leaning on the rails on the small hospital balcony outside Zoe's room, the evening air cold against our skin. Behind us, through the half-open sliding door, Zoe's hooked to a symphony of beeps that sounds like a countdown.
"I've lost the fight," Elise whispered again. This time I understood she's not even talking about Zoe. She's talking about herself.
Her fingers dug into mine so tightly it hurts. They're trembling.
"When she wakes up… promise me you'll talk to her. Don't let her give up like this. We need her to want to fight again. Please."
I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and squeezed her hands back, trying to be the strong one, a role I've been cast in since birth.
