The paramedics worked quickly, immobilizing my neck and placing me on a stretcher. My father’s protests faded into the background as I was lifted, the world shifting and swaying around me. The last thing I saw before they loaded me into the ambulance was my mother’s face, twisted in confusion and anger, and Ryan—no longer smirking, now pale and quiet, eyes glued to the ground.
Inside the ambulance, EMT Morris stayed by my side, her presence comforting amid the chaos. She held my hand as we made our way to the hospital, her eyes kind but filled with urgency.
“Try to stay calm, Hannah,” she said. “We’re taking you to the best facility nearby. You’re going to be okay.”
