*Ringing*
"Hello—"
"Ama! Mom collapsed!"
*Clatter*
Dropping Amaya's phone as if it were a live coal, Seth's eyes widened, reflecting a stark terror that mirrored the sudden silence of the canteen. The three of us on the bench flinched, our shared canteen picnic momentarily forgotten. "Whose call was that?" Amaya asked, her voice barely a whisper, her face a mask of sudden, stark fear. "Momma's in the hospital..." he choked out, the words barely audible.
Amaya's world seemed to shatter. She bolted upright, her movements jerky, like a puppet with tangled strings. "Ama," I called, my hand instinctively reaching for her back. Her skin felt clammy beneath my touch. She clutched my hands, her fingers digging in, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her legs trembled so violently that I feared she might collapse. Seth, his face a picture of grim determination, sped off in the car, Sophia in the passenger seat, her knuckles white as she clasped her hands in prayer.
