CHAPTER 116
CHAPTER 116
POV ISABELA
The sound of the gunshot echoed through the room.
Loud.
Sharp.
Deafening.
For a second… the world stopped.
“NO!” My scream tore through the silence, desperate, coming from a place I didn’t even know existed inside me.
My heart simply… froze.
Stopped beating.
My eyes went straight to Noah.
Immediately.
Instinctively.
I needed to see.
Needed to be sure.
But…
He was there.
Standing.
Unharmed.
No blood.
No injury.
Not falling.
My breath failed.
A second of relief… too brief to be real.
Because something was wrong.
Very wrong.
My gaze began to lower.
Slowly.
As if my own body resisted finding what I already feared.
And then…
I saw.
Isis.
On the floor.
Her body was lying on its side.
Motionless.
Blood.
So much blood.
Spreading too fast.
Staining her clothes.
The floor.
“No…” my voice came out in a broken whisper.
“No… no… no…”
The world collapsed.
Crashed down on me.
Without warning.
Without mercy.
My daughter.
My daughter was on the floor.
Bleeding.
My vision blurred.
My legs weakened.
But even so…
I got up.
Against all the pain.
Against every medical order.
Against everything.
I stood.
On pure desperation.
And ran to her.
“ISIS!”
The scream tore out of me, desperate, filled with fear.
I dropped to my knees beside her, not even feeling the impact on my own body.
My hands were shaking so much I could barely touch her.
“Baby… baby… look at me… please…”
She didn’t move.
Didn’t react.
Nothing.
“Don’t do this to me… don’t do this to me…”
My voice broke with every word.
The blood…
The blood wouldn’t stop.
It slipped through my fingers.
Warm.
Alive.
And all I could think was that it was hers.
My daughter’s.
“Isis… stay with me… stay with me, my love… please…”
My whole body trembled.
My breathing came in uncontrollable sobs.
“Somebody help!” I screamed. “For God’s sake… somebody help!”
But everything felt distant.
Muffled.
Slow.
Like I was trapped in a nightmare.
Like none of this was real.
But it was.
Too real.
Behind me…
The chaos continued.
Noah.
Until then, frozen.
Paralyzed.
Shocked.
Finally moved.
And it was as if something inside him had broken.
Or awakened.
He saw Daniel.
Trying to run.
Trying to escape.
As if nothing had happened.
And that…
That was enough.
Noah lunged forward.
Without thinking.
Without hesitation.
Without caring about consequences.
He caught him before he even reached the door.
And then…
The explosion.
The two of them hit the ground.
A violent fight.
Raw.
Out of control.
Punches.
Shoves.
Built-up rage.
Hatred.
Desperation.
All mixed.
Noah wasn’t just fighting Daniel.
He was fighting everything that man represented.
Everything he had done.
Everything he had just done.
“You son of a bitch!” Noah shouted, his voice consumed by fury.
Daniel tried to fight back.
But Noah was out of control.
Every punch carried months of tension.
Of anger.
Of helplessness.
Alex ran.
Desperate.
“I’m calling the police! And an ambulance!”
His voice echoed down the hallway.
But I…
I couldn’t leave.
I couldn’t look at anything else.
Only Isis.
“Baby… please…”
My hands pressed against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
But it felt useless.
It wouldn’t stop.
“Stay with me… you have to stay with me…”
My tears fell onto her face.
Mixed with the blood.
“I love you… Can you hear me? I love you…”
My voice was a desperate whisper.
Barely there.
Time…
Time stopped existing.
Seconds felt like hours.
Hours felt like an eternity.
Until…
Sirens.
The sound cut through the air.
Loud.
Urgent.
Salvation.
Or maybe hope.
The door burst open.
Paramedics.
Police.
Everything is happening too fast.
“Step back, ma’am!” one of them said firmly.
“No!” I resisted. “She’s my daughter… she’s my daughter…”
“We need to help her!”
My hands took too long to let go.
As if letting go…
Meant losing her forever.
But I let go.
They began.
Pressure on the wound.
Equipment.
Quick movements.
Precise.
“She’s alive,” one of them said.
My heart jumped.
“She… she is?” My voice came out weak.
“She is. But we need to act fast.”
They placed her on the stretcher.
Everything fast.
Too fast.
Daniel…
Was handcuffed.
Taken by the police.
He was still shouting.
But I couldn’t hear him.
Didn’t want to.
He didn’t exist to me anymore.
Only she did.
My daughter.
They took Isis.
And I went after them.
Or tried to.
My legs gave out.
My body collapsed.
And then…
Arms caught me.
Strong.
Firm.
Noah.
His hands were dirty.
Blood.
Her blood.
Blood from the fight.
But he held me like I was about to fall apart.
And maybe I was.
I clung to him.
And broke down.
I cried.
Without control.
Without strength.
Without anything.
“It’s going to be okay…” he whispered.
But his voice faltered.
Because he was scared too.
We both were.
And we knew.
Nothing was okay.
Nothing.
(…)
We were in the same hospital where I had spent the last few days.
The same hospital.
The same hallway.
The same waiting room.
But everything was different.
Much worse.
Because now…
It wasn’t about me.
It was about her.
“She’s in surgery…” the doctor said, serious. “The bullet needs to be removed.”
My heart sank.
“She… is she alive?” I asked, barely able to speak.
He nodded.
“She is. But her condition is critical. We need to wait.”
Wait.
The worst word that exists.
My legs couldn’t hold me.
I sat down.
Or fell.
I don’t even know.
Noah sat beside me.
Held my hand.
Tightly.
As if it were the only thing still keeping us standing.
And there…
In that heavy silence…
Cold…
Cruel…
We stayed.
Waiting.
Praying.
Afraid.
While my daughter…
Fought for her life.