The girl and her blood dripped across fingers-tips, the girl she had hurt. The girl who she begged the security guard to take into the hospital. This ache in her eyes for someone to fix this mess she'd made. She was hardly sure if he had obliged. Hardly sure if the girl had survived.
“You have to let her in..”
But soon enough that had hardly mattered. Its repetitive and uncertainty. A glance down and it faded away, the moral compass that she wanted so strongly to believe.
The blood was sticky, and it gnawed away at her bones. It clawed away skin and sanity before darkness took over.
But shadows became shorter.
She could smell the toxic cleaning chemicals before her eyes opened. She could almost feel the white-washed walls surrounding her. Maeve's body began to shift, the chair she was sitting upon hard.
Eyes fluttered and darkness reversed, the white hospital waiting room empty.
Or so she thought. An abrupt stand, glancing down to the dried blood upon her fingers, the echoing mind.
She knew she shouldn't be here. She had to get back before they noticed.
She was a Blackbourne, an obscurial. The NSPS couldn’t afford to lose something like that. Maeve agreed. Of course she did. Her eyes scanned the room, pausing, landing on something. Landing on Him.