All I want for Christmas is Yoon

“He’s out of my life for good. I’ll testify that he told me he bribed Samantha. I’m not saying he gave her the order, but I put nothing past him at this point.” God, this is all my damn fault. Maybe she’s the one who’s better off without me.

They bustle her out of the ambulance, and I follow them for as far as I can.

Is she going to be okay? What will I do if she’s not? If we stay together, can this happen again? The thoughts race around in my head. I move outside to get fresh air. Running a hand through my hair, I close my eyes and try to calm down.

Snap. Snap. Cameras begin to go off all around me.

“Yoon. Tell us what you’re doing here in the hospital. Were you involved in the altercation? Did you know Samantha Ho was unstable?”

“We heard you’ve parted ways with Sang over the victim.”

Bombarded, I blink up at them, lost. I panic for a split second, and my training kicks in. “The whole situation is unfortunate. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be returning inside. Statements will be released later.”

I hurry back inside, grateful that hospitals are like a safe space outside of public areas. Her name and the event will be splattered all over the media. Her family needs to be kept up to date. I look down at the purse I’m holding. I should call.

“Sissy, did you win?” Fiona asks as she answers my call.

“Hello? Fiona?”

“Oh my God. Is this Yoon Kim?” Her voice is giddy.

“Yes. I’m sorry to tell you this, but your sister has been in an accident. She’s having an operation now, and I want to fly you out to be with her.”

“What?” she wails.

Rustling noises fill my ear.

“Hello? This is Hart’s best friend, Ava. I’m in charge of her sister while she’s away. Did I hear you say there’s been an accident?”

“Yes,” I reply, “and I wanted you to hear it from me, not from online or one of the members of the press who may be trying to get into contact with you. There was an altercation with the winner of the show, and she was stabbed.”

“What?” she squawks. “Is she okay?”

“I’m here now waiting to hear the news,” I explain, running my fingers through my hair and tugging to ground me.

“Where are you?” Ava asks.

“I’ll arrange tickets for both of you as soon as possible,” I tell her.

“Why?”

“Because we’ve been seeing each other for weeks now, and if I have my way, we’ll never stop.”

“Ho-ly shit. Alright. I’m processing all this. Tell us when and where and we’ll be there.”

“I will make the arrangements now and contact you.”

I busy myself hunting down flights, charging tickets, hotel rooms, and sending texts.

A doctor comes out. “I’m looking for the significant other of Hartley Warren.”

“That’s me.” I hop up.

“She’s resting now. We’ve stitched her up inside and out and given her a heavy sedative to allow her to rest.”

“Can I see her?”

“Yes. As long as you don’t disturb her rest.” I mime the locking of my lips with a key. We wind down a hallway and step into a private room.