"You pathetic alcoholic!" Mom's scream jolted me awake.
I sat up, heart pounding. Not again.
"Keep your voice down!" Frank shouted, his words slurred, his usual response to any conflict.
I bolted out of bed, immediately regretting it as the room spun. "Lily?"
Not again. Not today.
Silence.
I scanned the empty bed. My hand gripped the edge of the mattress for stability. Where the hell was she?
"Lily!" I shouted again, rushing out of my room, my bare feet slapping against the cold floor.
The living room was chaotic. Mom, still holding a frying pan like some weapon, glared at Frank, who was sprawled on the couch, surrounded by bottles. The stench of cheap vodka hung in the air.
"Where's Lily?" I demanded, voice rising in panic.
Mom blinked at me, disoriented. "What? She's not in her room?"
"Would I be asking if she were?" My voice cracked with frustration.
Frank chuckled, rubbing his jaw as he tried to sit up. "She probably ran off again. Smart kid. Can't handle all this drama."
"Did either of you remember to grab her inhaler?" My words were short, clipped, urgent.
Blank stares from both of them.
"Her asthma medication!" I snapped, my fingers trembling as I tried to keep my cool. "Did you—?"
Mom's face paled. "Oh God, I forgot. I meant to—"
"Save it," I cut her off, my pulse racing. "I'm going to find her."
Without waiting for a response, I snatched my keys and headed for the door.
"Hey!" Frank stumbled to his feet, swaying, his voice too loud. "Aren't you forgetting something, princess?"
I turned, already seething. "What now?"
He stretched out a hand, grinning in his drunken haze. "Daddy tax."
"Go to hell." I slammed the door behind me before he could say another word, not even stopping to hear his insults as I rushed out.
Where the hell was Lily?
The playground was empty, the swings swaying slightly in the breeze. The bodega was closed. Nothing.
"Lily!" My voice echoed in the quiet morning, desperation creeping into my tone.
Then I heard it—faint but unmistakable—a wheezing sound.
My stomach dropped. "Lily?"
"A-Ari?" a small, strained voice rasped.
I followed the sound, the alley was dark, damp, and reeked of old garbage.
And there she was. Curled up on the pavement, clutching her chest as her breath came in labored gasps.
I dropped to my knees, hands shaking. "Lily! Where's your inhaler?"
She shook her head weakly. "Empty… couldn't breathe… at home."
Shit.
"Lily, stay with me," I whispered, panic rising in my chest. I fumbled for my phone, hands slick with sweat, and dialed 911 with shaking fingers. "911, what's your emergency?"
"My sister's having an asthma attack!"
"She's fourteen, no inhaler. We're at—" I gave them the location, voice tight with dread. "Please, hurry."
"An ambulance is on the way. Stay on the line."
I turned back to Lily, who was barely holding on. "Okay, sweetheart. Just breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Remember?"
She nodded faintly, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, her small frame trembling in the cold.
Minutes crawled by. Each second felt like an eternity. Her wheezing worsened, and I could see the panic in her eyes as she struggled for air.
"Where's that damn ambulance?" I muttered, voice hoarse.
And then, it happened. Her eyes fluttered shut.
"No, no, no! Stay with me!" My heart stopped. I slapped her cheek, desperate. "Lily! Don't close your eyes! Please, stay with me!"
Her body went limp in my arms.
"Lily!" I screamed, my voice breaking. "Help! We're over here! Somebody! Please!"
Paramedics rushed in, and I nearly collapsed with relief as they carefully took Lily from my arms.
"The next few hours were a blur. The noise of the ambulance siren, the chaotic ER, doctors barking orders, nurses pushing me aside as they worked to stabilize Lily.
Now, I sat beside her hospital bed, watching her. She looked so small, so fragile in that bed.
A nurse entered, checking her vitals. "She's stable," the nurse said, "The doctor will be in soon."
I nodded absently, my mind still spinning. How had everything gone so wrong?
My phone buzzed. I glanced at it, my heart sinking. Mom. Again.
I let it ring, refusing to pick it up. The last thing I needed was to hear her voice right now.
The door swung open, and a tall man in a white coat stepped in.
"Miss Thorne?" His voice was calm, and measured. "I'm Dr. Warren. I've been overseeing your sister's care."
I stood, a little too quickly.
"How is she?"
"She's going to be fine," he assured me. "But I'm concerned about how this happened. You mentioned her inhaler was empty?"
A shameful heat burned in my chest. "Our mom… she forgot to refill it."
His brows furrowed, his eyes hardening. "Has she had attacks this severe before?"
I swallowed hard. "No. Never like this."
He made a note on his tablet. "I'd like to keep her for observation another day. We should also discuss a more effective management plan for her asthma."
"Of course," I agreed immediately. "Whatever she needs."
His sharp gaze softened, just slightly. "Miss Thorne, how old are you?"
"Twenty-four." I straightened, trying to compose myself. "I'm a nurse at New York Presbyterian."
He gave me a thoughtful look. "Impressive." He hesitated. "Lily's lucky to have you looking after her."
I clenched my jaw, unwilling to admit how much of a mess my life truly was. "I'm doing my best."
Something in his gaze softened. "I understand this isn't my place, but… do you have anyone to help with your home situation?"
I stiffened. "We're fine."
His silence stretched, but he didn't push. "Alright. If you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out."
He turned to leave, but just as the door was about to close—
"Ari?" Lily's voice was hoarse but stronger.
I rushed to her side, my heart in my throat. "Hey, squirt. How do you feel?"
"Tired," she murmured. "What happened?"
"You had a bad asthma attack, but you're okay now."
Her eyes darted around in panic. "Are Mom and Frank mad?"
My heart clenched, but I forced a smile. "Forget them. Just rest, okay?"
She hesitated, then asked, "Can I stay with you when I get out of here?"
I froze.
My tiny studio apartment was barely enough for me, let alone a teenager.
Dr. Warren cleared his throat as if sensing the tension. "I might be able to help with that."
I turned to him, wary. "What do you mean?"
He handed me a business card, "I know someone in social services. She might be able to assist with… temporary arrangements."
I took the card, relief and anxiety twisting inside me. "I… appreciate it."
He nodded. "Think it over. For now, get some rest. Both of you."
Lily squeezed my hand, breaking my thoughts. "Are we in trouble?"
I tightened my grip. "No, sweetie. We're going to be okay."
But even as I said the words, I wasn't sure if I believed them.
My phone vibrated again, and another message flashed across the screen. It was my matron texting.
Aria, where are you? Your shift started an hour ago.