All Chapters of His To Hear, His To Hold: Chapter 91 - Chapter 99

Everything happened so damn fast. One second, the gun was pointed straight at my chest. The next—Anne moved. Not just moved—launched herself. Threw her whole body into Jessica like a fucking meteor. I was still trying to grab Anne, to yank her back behind me, but I was too late. The shot cracked through the air like lightning, and then they were both on the floor in a tangle of limbs, struggling like animals. The gun skidded a few feet away. For a full second I just stood there. Frozen. Useless. Anne—my Anne—her face was twisted in pain, mouth open in a silent cry, but she kept going. Kept fighting. Her hands were locked in Jessica's hair, her leg awkwardly curled under her, one arm trying to force Jessica's wrist down. I could see the terror in her eyes, but she didn't stop. She was scared. But she was still fighting. To save me. That broke something inside me. I snapped out of it and surged forward, grabbing Jessica by the back of her coat and slamming her to the ground with

I was so bored it hurt. Like, actual physical pain. Probably because lying in a hospital bed with a useless leg and nothing but your own thoughts will do that to a person. That, and Yesenia confiscated my phone. Something about "protecting my mental state." Which, to be fair, she probably had a point—unfortunately. The internet was foaming at the mouth. Everyone was calling me a hero and reposting my face like I was some kind of teenage martyr. Someone filmed the hallway—right when I tackled Jessica—and that clip of me getting shot went viral. Viral like a dog playing the piano. Viral like a meme. Except it wasn't funny, and I wasn't performing. My phone had practically melted down from interview requests. The school hadn't even cleaned the blood off the floor yet, and already producers were asking for a soundbite. People from school shared my photo with captions like "Pray for Anne 🕊️" even though some of them had laughed when I got shoved into lockers a year ago. Somehow, getti

I used to be considered a prodigy. As a baby, I was quiet. I hit every milestone early. The pediatrician said I had focus beyond my age—my mother said it was divine. Everyone said so, really. Teachers, priests, neighbors. They called me special, chosen, and I believed them. How could I not? I was adored for just existing. I was a gift from God. That's what people told me. That's what I learned to be. My brother got things easier, though. Always. Naturally gifted without trying. And worse, he was soft. He didn't even want the spotlight. I hated him for that. I made it my mission to be better than him, louder than him, brighter. And everyone believed I was. My mother was thrilled. My father wasn't. He never praised me. Never smiled. Never said I was smart, or beautiful, or good. He said I was a problem. A manipulator. A demon. Once he looked me straight in the face and said, "God doesn't make girls like you." And maybe he was right, but not in the way he meant. That's why I never ne

"It's time to go inside," Victor said, practically dragging me past Yesenia, who was still trying to tame the one cowlick in his hair like it was a matter of national security. "Are you ready to go inside?""Yeah—with all that extra security," I muttered, eyeing the two armed guards by the entrance.Walking into the auditorium felt like stepping into a crime scene disguised as a celebration. The metal detectors were new, so were the sniffer dogs, and the uniformed officers lining the walls like we were all one wrong move away from being tackled. When I passed through, my cane set off the alarm, of course. That stupid alarm that blared like I was smuggling in a weapon instead of a titanium rod in my leg. I told Dad not to splurge on the fancy cane. He thought it would make me feel dignified. It didn't."I'll meet you at the end," Victor said, giving my hand a quick squeeze."I'll see you then," I murmured, letting go, even though I didn't want to. Even though everything in me wanted to