"Alan?"
My lips quivered; a sense of dread and fear crept under my skin, making me tremble as I looked at the man with light auburn hair taking Alan out of the stadium.
...That man looked back at me, gesturing for me to follow before he vanished.
"A-Az."
I slowly turned towards Ashlyn, her eyes bloodshot, her hands pressing on Tiffany's stomach, trying to stop the bleeding.
"H-help."
Her lips were pale, bloodless; they fluttered, asking for help.
I remained silent as I looked back at the place where Alan was taken.
'...What should I do?'
If I leave now, Tiffany will die, but if I don't, Alan could also die.
I bit my lips, blood trickling down from them as I looked at her crying, holding her dying sister.
"A-Az, p-please help." Her grieving voice echoed in my ears, making my head burst with remorse.
'..Please, please be the right decision.'
