Chapter 5: Hospital Truths

When I woke up, my friend Rachel was perched beside my hospital bed at Cedars, peeling an apple with the kind of intensity only a true friend can muster.

The room smelled like bleach and Granny Smiths—a weirdly comforting combo. Rachel’s messy ponytail and dark circles made her look like she’d been fighting sleep for days.

Her eyes were red as she punched my shoulder, not gently. “Maya, you nearly drank yourself into the ER! Was Carter’s career really worth a stomach bleed?”

I shook my head, wincing. “You don’t get it, Rach. That show is Carter’s shot at breaking into acting.”

Right now, music is still Carter’s world, but he’s desperate to cross over—especially since he can’t write his own material. This drama could make or break that dream.

Rachel huffed and tossed the fruit knife onto the tray. “Who are you trying to impress? Six years—doesn’t he know you can’t drink?”

Carter stood at the foot of the bed, eyes downcast, mouth twisted in a frown that made my chest ache with old, bitter memories.

I can’t stand seeing that face—any trace of sadness on it cuts deeper than any insult.

This habit is etched into my bones.

“All right, Rach, I’m fine.” I forced a smile and looked at Carter. “You’ve got an event. Don’t be late.”

I patted Rachel’s hand, hoping to reassure her.

Rachel picked up the apple and chucked it at Carter. “Get out! If you weren’t so pretty, I’d clock you myself!”

Carter ducked, a sheepish grin flickering across his face. For a second, I almost laughed.