The chaos in the café blurred into a nightmare—shouts, shattered glass, blood pooling under Lysander's arm as I knelt beside him, pressing my jacket against the wound.
"Stay with me," I whispered, my voice cracking. His face was ashen, but he managed a weak grin. "Worth it... if you're okay."
I fumbled for my phone with blood-slick hands, dialing 911.The moments they picked, I voiced out, " Hello, we need an ambulance at Monticello high campus café, It's a gunshot victim. Please hurry!"
Within a few minutes, the paramedics arrived in a blur of sirens and stretchers, loading him in.
I climbed into the back without thinking, ignoring the cops swarming the scene. The ride was a haze of beeping monitors and the medic's calm questions. Lysander squeezed my hand once, eyes fluttering as he tried to tell something. "Anonymous... it's.."
"Save it," I cut him off. "Just rest, we can talk about that later."
