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Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod… I kept shaking my head, not believing it. She’s not dead. She’s not dead. It can’t be…! I put my first two fingers on her perfect swan neck and prayed to feel a pulse.
Nothing.
Finally, the guilt and sorrow consumed me. I killed her, I thought. It’s my fault… she was in that room because I took her there… she… and… but… The grief wouldn’t allow me to comprehend any of this.
Then I broke. I looked at her battered body and began to cry… or, more like sob. Loudly.
“Rainn, it’s okay,” Olivia said, her eyes too welling up with tears. “It’s not your fault,” she comforted.
Viridiana had run to her room, her green eyes overflowing with sad, salty water.
I attempted to speak. “We hav…we…have to… get… infirmary.”
Olivia and I picked Abbi up, and her pale face leaned in against my chest, like a small child taking a nap. As we laid her in the hospital-like bed, her beautiful hazel eyes fluttered open.
“Rainn,” she whispered to me.