145 JOYFUL NOTES

ANDRE’S POV

I stood still, eyes fixed on my mother as she walked up to me. I was supposed to go pay Ariel a visit at the hospital, cause I had a feeling she would be there. Now I was being delayed by my parents. Just great, I was the one who brought this upon myself. I woke up, got ready for work, forgetting that about Ariel.

“You’re going to work?” My mother asked, she had gotten a little bit closer to me.

“Yes. But I’ll be going to the hospital first to see how Ariel and Luke are doing.”

“Oh right. We should go and see them, don’t you think?”

“You want to come along?”

“Yes, of course. Ariel is like a daughter to me, so I really need to check up on her.”

“Okay then, we can start leaving now.”

“Woah woah woah, young man. Not so fast” my mother spoke, and I gave her a curious look.

“Anything?”

“Yes, I thought you were wounded last night.” She crossed her arms.

“Yes. Yes I was,” I responded.

“And you’re feeling better now?”

“Yes,” I answered and let out a sigh. “I am feeling better now,” I added. Honestly, when I woke up this morning, took my bath, and put on my clothes, I totally forgot I got some scars on my body. Like, it wasn’t even painful. It was like nothing happened last night.

“Are you sure about that?” My mother gave me a skeptical look.

“Can’t you see how he’s standing and

I can

man, and

mom burst into

giving her a puzzled face. “I’m strong, right?

And seeing her cracking up like that, caused me to

you just so funny?” She fixed her hand on

gaped

and you got chased by bees,” my mother reminded him.

bees.” He tried

tone, taunting him.

I’m out of here.”

the playful mode. “Mom, you got

going then. But have do you perhaps know where Mason is? I haven’t

stormed out of the house last

that?” she raised an eyebrow.

walked

wait for me!” I could

****

ARIEL’S POV

The beeping of machines and the faint murmurs of nurses outside the door created a dull backdrop to my thoughts,

condition.

rushed to a room by the nurses, and doctors. Now I just hoped nothing

at me.

each passing moment. I furrowed my brow in confusion, wondering where the festive sounds could be coming from in such a somber place. Then, as if materializing out of thin air, a group of Mexican musicians burst into the room, their vibrant energy filling the sterile space with life.

embroidered shirts, and polished leather boots. They carried guitars, trumpets, and maracas, their fingers flying expertly over the strings and keys, producing a cacophony of joyful melodies

the musicians began to play, their infectious

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