POV: Angel
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and faintly wilted flowers, the kind that lined waiting rooms with their futile attempts at cheer. I sat in a hard plastic chair near the ICU, clutching my phone in one hand and a lukewarm coffee in the other. The surgery had been going on for hours, and every passing minute felt like an eternity.
“Miss Williams?”
I jumped, nearly spilling my coffee as I turned to see the surgeon standing in the doorway, his scrubs speckled with faint traces of blood. His face was calm, unreadable.
“How is he?” I asked, my voice trembling.
He nodded, his expression softening. “The surgery went well. Your father is stable, and the new heart is functioning as it should.”
Relief flooded through me so quickly I thought I might collapse. I clutched the back
