WILLIAM
"She hates me. Harper hates me now," Clara whispered, her cries echoing softly in the dark room. The only sound that could be heard aside from the machines surrounding her.
I moved closer to her bed, pulled up the chair beside it, and sat down. She turned her gaze from the door to me.
"What do I do?" she continued. "I thought I was sparing her any pain if I died, but I realize now I've been selfish."
Very selfish. I agreed with her, and I was almost relieved she finally saw it, now that she had nearly lost her life.
I clasped her hand, threading our fingers together.
"I'm sure Harper will understand eventually," I said. She studied me, questions swirling in her eyes, and I pressed on. "You need to take the surgery, Clara."
She shook her head and opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off.
