Emilia
It was raining.
We were in the dead of winter, and it was raining.
My arm tightened around the brown grocery bag as I watched the front door of my building come into view.
Thank. Fuck.
The thing about New York was, almost everything I needed was within walking distance, and if not, then it was only a short subway ride away.
I would have driven to the grocery store even if it had only taken me less than ten minutes to walk there, but my car was still parked in the lot of the dance studio, and I didn’t think the rain would be this bad.
I limped the last few steps to my building. I couldn’t wait to finally get home and take my leg off.
But something caught my attention, and I knew something was wrong before my mind caught on.
Even from a distance, I could see a white piece of paper taped in the middle of the elevator doors.
Out of Service.
Fuck. It was just my luck.
It had been working this morning when I left.The weight pressing down on me almost every day was back, and suddenly, I didn’t know if I could handle… this anymore.
I could cry.
I moved my way to the stairs on the side of the building, but the thought of trekking up four flights of stairs to get to my apartment felt like the absolute torture. My thigh throbbed from the pain, and the cold did not make it any easier.
“I’m not crazy,” I muttered to myself, though it fucking felt like it, when I couldn’t even climb the stairs to get into my apartment because of some pain in a leg that didn’t even exist anymore.
I slapped my hand on the hard metal, to remind myself that it was what it was—a prosthetic leg, so I should be able to move.
Just move, dammit!
I—I couldn’t do it.
My heart hurt, and I sat down on the bottom step and placed my groceries next to me on the stairs, mulling over what I should do. My eyes burned, and I wiped away the tears before they had a chance to fall, frustration tightening my insides.
I had never felt more helpless than I did then.
I leaned my head to the side until it rested on the wall, and I looked out at the front door of the building.
My only option was to call Evelyn. She probably wouldn’t be able to help me up herself, but I was sure she would ask Jace and surely he could.
The problem with calling Evelyn was that she wouldn’t keep this quiet.
She would tell Ethan and my dad and they would only worry.
Or, worse, Ethan would be on the first flight over to take care of me.
What was I supposed to do now? Wait out the pain?
Crawl?
It was my only option. I pulled out my phone from my bag to call my sister, and that was when my phone rang. The shrill sound almost had me dropping the phone in fright. I looked down at the screen.
Jensen.