The door creaked open and Zephyr stepped inside. He hesitated at the doorstep, taking in the scene. Eddie laid on the bed, along with the two female nurses taking off the drip, and the oxygen tube connected into his mouth.
The familiar scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, but what twisted the knot in Zephyr’s chest was the look on the old man’s face.
Wrinkles creased his face, his breathing was heavy, his eyes and skin pale. He had given up hope.
Under the crushing weight Karen's grip tightened around Zephyr’s arm, pressing.
Zephyr approached the bed, his gentle strides pulled the attention of the nurses to him.
“Excuse me sir, you shouldn't be here.”
“I came to see the patient,” Zephyr interrupted before the nurse could end her statement. “I am Zephyr Sinclair, I am a medic in
