FIFTY-FOUR.

“I honestly don't know. But they're becoming very impatient, and they said that if you don’t hurry, they will start shooting again.” She turns to her side, using her body to open the door wider.

Wiping the corners of my mouth, I straighten my back, clearing my throat as I take a glimpse at myself in the mirror.

'You’ve got this.' I say to myself, finding the last ounce of courage I have within.

“Let's go.” My voice quivers.

We exit the restroom, and the chaos through the corridors is still alive and thriving.

As we approach the nurse's station, which is surrounded by agents wearing masks of frustration.

Every nerve in my body is screaming at me to turn away and run.

“Miss Bishop?” A man asks me with the phone in his hand.

I gulp as I nod my head. “Yes,” I croak out.

Multiple sets of eyes are watching me, and I suddenly feel very self-cautious.

He passes me the cordless phone, “they're requesting to speak with you.” He steps away when I take the phone from his grasp.

“Don't say