*Isla*
Mystica has put an oxygen mask of some sort over Sydney’s mouth and nose and asked her to breathe deeply. She also gave her something else, something that will make her go to sleep soon. I hold her hand and force myself to smile at her, but as the other woman’s eyes grow heavy and flicker closed, I can’t help but wonder if she will ever open them again.
I have all the faith in the world in Mystica. She saved my life, and she’s treated my injuries more than once. But that doesn’t mean she can save everyone in every situation.
Mystica and her nurses begin working quickly as soon as Sydney is out, and I no longer feel the need to sit next to her and calmly hold her hand, especially when I see the sharp instrument that mystica is about to use to cut her open.
We have a similar thoug
