Chapter 80
I’m still rattled, even minutes after the accident. I sit slumped in one of the reception chairs, heart racing, hands trembling, my mind heavy with the weight of what almost happened.
“Hey, you’re okay,” Carl says gently. “You’re safe p>
The words should be comforting, but the fear clings to me like a second skin. My chest is tight, my thoughts. spiraling. Moments like this make you reevaluate everything. Life, death, the people you love, the things you’ve done and the things you haven’t. It’s like being handed an unwanted epiphany.
I try to shove it away, but I can’t. Not when my mind keeps replaying what could have happened if Carl had been a second too late.
“Hey, what happened?” I’m pulled from the storm in my head by familiar voices. My teammates crowd around, Benji among them.
I can’t even speak. Carl explains for me, and they nod, frowning, and offering sympathy. But their words blur together. I feel nothing but a cold hollowness spreading through me.
“Sierra p>
I look up to see the director approaching. His expression is all pity.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I’ll make sure it’s fixed. In the meantime, you and your team can take a few days off while the lab is repaired p>
I nod, my voice small and shaky. “Thank you.
He studies me for a beat longer before walking away. Around me, my teammates start talking about the accident, about going back to bed, and about how the day unfolded, but all I can see is that machine falling toward me.
“Are you okay?” Benji’s voice cuts in, quieter than the rest. His gaze digs into me with concern.
“I’m okay. I just need…” I trail off because I don’t even know what I need. I force the words out anyway. “I’ll be okay p>
After a while, I stand. “See you guys later p>
I don’t wait for replies. I just turn and walk out, my legs carrying me on autopilot. I reach the parking lot, slide ⚫ into my car, and drive.
Minutes later, I find myself outside a café. I don’t even remember deciding to come here, but maybe that’s what I need, somewhere quiet. Somewhere normal. I park, step out, and push through the doors.
The bell above the café door jingles as I step inside, and for the first time since the accident, I let out a shaky breath. The air smells of roasted coffee beans and something sweet–caramel maybe–but it doesn’t soothe me the way I hope it will. My hands still tremble, and my chest still feels like it’s carrying the weight of that equipment about to crush me.
I order a chamomile tea, hoping it will steady me, and carry it to a small table tucked in the corner. The mug is warm against my palms, but even with both hands wrapped around it, I can’t stop the faint shake. My stomach twists, my nerves are still on edge, and my mind keeps replaying the sound of metal groaning before it gave way.
I stare at the steam curling from my cup until a voice cuts through my haze.
“Sierra, right p>
I blink up, startled. Maybe it’s because my mind is a mess, but it takes me a moment to focus and recognize his face.
Adrian…. My doctor.
He looks different outside his clinic. He looks less formal in a soft gray sweater, sleeves pushed up, with coffee and a paper bag in his hand.
“Yes,” I manage, my voice catching slightly.
He gestures to the chair across from me. “Seat taken p>
“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head.
“Mind if I join p>
I don’t, though part of me wants to be alone. Still, I hear myself say, “I don’t mind p>
He sits, setting his coffee down with an easy movement, then pulls a doughnut from the bag. “Small world,” he says with a half–smile. “Running into each other outside the clinic p>
“Yeah,” I murmur, trying to match his smile but failing. My thoughts are still back at the lab, back under the shadow of that falling equipment.
Silence slips in between us, broken only by the clink of his spoon stirring sugar into his coffee. I focus on that sound, on the way it grounds me for a second.
It’s a bit awkward if I’m honest, given the conversation feels a bit forced… but it could be because I’m just not in the mood.