Max Donman sat on the edge of his sister's hospital bed, a few strands of blonde hair falling across his face as he watched her sleep.
The room was dim, lit only by the soft blue glow of the monitoring machines and a single wall lamp that cast long, pale shadows across the white sheets. Becky's chest rose and fell in slow, even rhythms, her face relaxed in a way it rarely was when awake. Her blonde braid lay coiled on the pillow like a sleeping snake.
The door to the ward stood open.
"Rebecca," he said quietly, testing whether she was truly under.
No response. Only the steady beep of the machines.
Footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. Max moved his fingers slightly. The door eased shut on its own with a soft click, cutting off the sound of the hallway completely. Silence settled around him like a blanket.
