Estelle's heart hammered against her ribs, frantic and unsteady, as the surgeon reached for the reflex hammer again. The faint clink of metal against the tray rang louder than it should have in the tense room.
Please, let it be real. The prayer echoed quietly in her mind as she fixed her gaze on him.
For a moment, even the air seemed to leave the room as the surgeon moved to the foot of the bed, his expression sharpened with focus.
He didn't speak. No one did. The soft hum of machines and the steady beeping of the monitor filled the silence, each sound stretching thin with anticipation.
He tapped the underside of her left foot again, then he looked up. Estelle shook her head, her breath coming quicker now, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven bursts. The wait between action and answer felt unbearable.
Across the room, Vance shifted. His hands, once neatly clasped, came apart as he leaned forward slightly, his attention fixed on the smallest movement.
