"It's been three hours now," Mike said quietly as they continued sitting in the hospital hallway. "Three hours."
Nobody answered him.
They all knew that whatever was happening inside those operating rooms was worse than anything they could imagine.
More doctors had arrived, followed by additional surgeons who rushed past them without wasting a second, yet not a single one of them stopped to say anything.
Every face that hurried past carried the same look, focused, exhausted.
"Should we tell his mother?" Mike asked again. "I think her prayers would help."
"No," Hector said immediately. "We wait."
The way he said those words made it clear that there were only two possible outcomes.
They would remain in that hallway until someone walked through those doors to tell them that James was finally stable and out of danger, or until the doctors came with the news that none of them wanted to hear.
That James had passed away.
