The next few moments passed in a haze.

I hung up on Dr. Parks, assuring him that I’d be there as soon as I can.

That’s what I always do, right?

Someone had taken my jean jacket off of me, so I had to search angrily before I found it in the dark. Scooter was asleep, thank the heavens. He could make a racket when he wanted to.

I clenched it, and marched out the door, nearly forgetting to take my shoes with me.

I stumbled down the stairs, and only when I grasped the knob of the main door did I notice my hands were pale – my palms were sweaty, and everything from shoulders down was shaking.

I hugged myself, willing the trembling to stop – I had to be strong.

Strong for myself.

Strong for papa.

I opened the door, trying not to wake everyone up when I closed it behind me.

Keen on not allowing my noodle-like legs to collapse beneath me, I almost ran the entire way to the hospital, not stopping even when my muscles started burning.

For this, I couldn’t be late.

No matter what.