Earlier that night:
The fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor hummed faintly, casting their glow on polished white tiles. Dr. Silas Durant tugged at the cuff of his coat, smoothing out an invisible crease, before sliding his phone out of his pocket. The screen lit up with a familiar name. He hesitated only long enough to slide on his black leather gloves before answering.
"Mother," he said flatly.
"Son…" Luna Francis's voice was heard, full of indulgence. "Your cousins are in town. Do be a dear and take them out?"
Silas's movement in hanging his white coat on the rack froze for a brief second before he replied icily. "I'm not their babysitter."
"I know, dear. But just this time? You don't want to repay their kindness like that, do you?" Luna Francis coaxed.
Silas's gaze shifted to the wide hospital window, where the moon hung sharp and cold in the night sky. He flexed his fingers inside his gloves, the leather creaking softly. "Fine."
