I hold onto my seat as Jayson flies over another speed bump.

"Slow down there Jay," says Kalen, clutching his seat belt. "We don't want to die before we get to the hospital."

Jayson smiles sheepishly, looking at us through the rearview mirror.

"Sorry, don't want to get stuck in traffic," He says, but slows down a bit.

Thanks to Jayson's crazy driving we make it to Oakland hospital in fifty minutes, and the five of us jump out of the van and race towards the entrance, coming up to the front desk where a lady in a blue nurse's outfit is talking on the phone. She holds up a finger, asking us to wait for a moment, and we all stand patiently as she finishes her call.

The hospital isn't very big, but it is very modern, with high ceilings and white everywhere. Glass walls give a perfect view of the outside, while light blue concrete separates the inside, keeping it hidden from view. I spot people being rolled around in wheelchairs, IVs hooked up to their arms, and little bags with liquid hanging above them on a metal rod with a hook on the end. Nurses are calling people into various rooms, and I even spot some kids in the children's area, their parents looking at their TekPads or watching their child draw or play. A little robot rolls around and takes people's temperature or asks them about their symptoms, which it later types into a computer for the doctors to look at once they are done with their patients. Another larger bot walks off carrying various urine, blood, and tissue samples to the labs.

I haven't been to a hospital in ages. The last time I went to the doctor was when I was seven and broke my arm when Cass and I were at the park. I fell off the swing and landed on my arm, fracturing two bones and pulling one of the muscles in my wrist. I still remember the smell though, the strong stench of antiseptic and disinfectant. It's exactly what it smells like now, even out here at the reception desk.

The receptionist finally hangs up the phone and turns to us with a friendly smile on her face, lacing her fingers together and placing her hands on the desk.

"Thank you for your patience, is there anything I can do for you?" She asks, scanning our little group, probably trying to figure out if one of us is sick or injured.

Mara steps up to the desk, taking charge of the situation, and smiles at the lady in return.

"We are here to visit a friend. Her name is Anna, she came here about two days ago with a serious injury to her eyes. We were hoping we could see her?"

The woman nods, typing something on her computer and reading through the information on the screen. It's nothing more than a slim transparent slab, so we can see everything she is reading but backward.

"What is your friend's last name please?" she asks causing Mara to hesitate, looking at me for help.

I wrack my brain, trying to remember if Anna ever told us her last name. I draw a blank, and shake my head at my friend, who turns back to the woman with a sheepish look on her face.

"Ummm, I can't seem to remember," she says, but the woman just nods and keeps looking at her screen.

"That's alright, I think I found her. Anna Brooks, came in around 6:00 pm on Sunday with a deep laceration over her eyes, age seventeen."

Mara nods when the woman looks at her for confirmation, and I hold my breath as I wait for her to tell us if we can see her or not. The woman jerks her head, smiling at us.

"She came out of surgery about fourteen hours ago, and it says here that she is accepting visitors, so I don't see why you couldn't go and see her."

I breathe a sigh of relief, feeling a weight lift off my chest.

Anna is okay.

"She is in room 127. Take that corridor to your left- continues the receptionist, leaning over the counter and pointing at one of the halls -There will be a flight of stairs. Head down to the second floor and take another left. Her door should be the sixth one on the right."

We thank the nice woman and follow her directions, navigating the little hospital and walking past white wall after white wall. I scan the door numbers as we go, counting in my head. 124, 125, 126... aha! 127!

We pause outside the door, hesitant.

"Are we sure we should go in there? What if she doesn't want to see us?" Asks Mara, realizing too late the words she had chosen. She slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes widening a fraction, and she shakes her head quickly.

"I mean do you think she will want us in the room with her!" she winces at her slip up, and Jayson puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

I shake my head.

"We need to warn them, whether they want us in there or not."

So, with that being said I walk up to the door, square my shoulders, and knock twice, shifting my weight from one foot to the other as I wait.

When the door opens it reveals a tired-looking Asher, who's face lights up when he sees us all crowding the hallway. Before anyone can stop me, I leap forward and envelope him in a hug, feeling my friends come up behind us to do the same.

"What are you doing here?" He exclaims, voice slightly muffled because of being squished by our arms.

"We came to make sure you were all okay, duh!" Says Cassie, peaking inside the room. She lowers her voice, whispering in Ash's ear.

"How is she doing?"

Ash shrugs, sighing.

"As well as can be expected I guess," he says. "She's much better than when we first got here. When the doctors patched her up and confirmed that there was nothing they could do for her eyes, she kept telling them to let her die, that she didn't want to live, to just end it all if it meant losing her Gift. Obviously, we managed to make her see reason, but... Now she's just so quiet. She barely says anything."

I feel sadness settle in the pit of my stomach. Poor Anna, I couldn't even start to imagine what she was going through. Not only did she lose her Gift, she completely lost her sight as well. She will never be able to see again, and that is hard for anyone, but it must've been especially hard for her, who used to see the world more vibrantly than any of us. Who depended on her sight more than any of us.

"Can we see her?" I ask him, fearing his answer.

He presses his lips together in a thin line, rubbing a hand through his hair. He holds up a finger and asks us to wait before going back into the room. He comes back out a few minutes later, not looking any happier than when he went inside.

"She says you can do whatever you want," he sighs.

Somehow, I know that wasn't her full answer, but I don't push him any further and instead follow my friends into the little room.