Elena Vasquez

The hospital’s fluorescent lights buzzed like a swarm of hornets, each flicker a pulse in the migraine hammering my skull. Mamá’s ICU room was a sanctuary of beeps and antiseptic, her bed the only calm in the storm. She slept, her chest rising steady, the antidote finally winning against Victor’s poison. Marco sat at her bedside, his laptop dark for once, his fingers twitching like they missed the keys. Alexander stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the ...