The tension was at an all-time high. I'd never seen Abel so agitated, so anxious as he made call after call on our way to the hospital where Wyatt was receiving treatment — first to his junior brother Andre, then to Nico who tailed us, and finally, to Andrew. Andrew didn't pick up his call and Abel dropped one too many voicemails telling him to call him back immediately once he got them. He also arranged for security to surround the hospital ground, but to be subtle so as not to scare the authorities or patients.
I couldn't be thankful enough.
On my end, I tried dialing Helen thrice, but it never went through. With heavy traffic, by the time we got to the hospital, an hour and a half had whizzed past. Abel's phone rang once as he pulled into the crowded parking lot. We searched for an appropriate place to park, and once he turned off the ignition, he checked the display, and I glimpsed the name. It was Norman Stravkos.
