*Thud.*
The sound hit me like a punch. Aeri's body crumpled to the wooden floor right in front of me, knees buckling, arms limp. No warning. Just gone.
My eyes went wide. The grocery bag slipped from my fingers—apples, onions, a packet of milk—everything spilled and rolled across the hallway.
"Aeri!!"
I dropped to my knees beside her in one fast movement, sliding my arms under her shoulders and pulling her up against my chest. Her head lolled back, heavy. I cradled her like she was made of glass.
"Hey—Aeri! Wake up!" I shook her gently at first, then a little harder. "Come on, open your eyes. Please."
Nothing. No flutter of eyelids. No small groan. Just shallow breaths moving her chest up and down, too slow, too weak.
I pressed two fingers to her neck. Pulse was there—faint, thready, but still beating. She was alive. Barely.
My hands shook as I yanked my phone out of my pocket. Thumb fumbled over the screen, hit emergency call. It rang once.
