The steady rhythm of machines filled the dim hospital room.
Soft beeps.
A slow, mechanical breath.
The distant shuffle of nurses outside.
Lynn lay still, pale as the white sheets beneath her, her small frame swallowed by wires and tubes. She hadn't moved in days.
Samantha hadn't left her side once.
Her hair was tied back loosely, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion. She sat in the uncomfortable hospital chair with perfect posture, hands folded, gaze fixed on the woman who had once brought her coffee, schedules, and soft smiles every morning.
Now Lynn looked like a ghost the world tried to erase.
Jake stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching her silently.
"You need to sleep," he said softly.
Samantha didn't look at him. "I will. When she wakes up."
"That could take days, Sam."
"It could take minutes," she replied calmly. "And if she wakes up and I'm not here…"
Her voice thinned.
"…she'll panic."
