Ariel Beckham.
It’s been four hours since I last heard from Ramirez. Four agonizing, nerve-wracking hours. I can’t stand it—trepidation makes it hard so hard to even breathe. This is my fault. All of it. If I hadn’t agreed to go with Darnez in the first place, maybe the family wouldn’t be in this mess. Maybe they’d actually have a chance to heal.
The sound of Teresa and Victoria’s wailing is very present. It’s enough to break me, to drag me deeper into this pit of blame. My hands tremble as I reach for my phone.
I started this, so I need to fix it. I should call George and beg him to intervene. The phone rings, each second stretches endlessly. No answer. I try Matilda next, but it’s the same. No response. What do I do? What do I do? Oh God—what if I lose Noah? What if Ramirez can’t save hi……
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