Alfred and I walked out of Bartley's ward and headed to the hall together.
From a distance, we saw William, Adrian, and James sitting on the sofa, each resembling a distinctly styled sculpture. William was nervously holding a teacup, glancing around anxiously; Adrian was engrossed in a thick medical journal, seemingly detached from his surroundings; and James appeared relaxed, leaning back on the sofa, though his eyes darted around, occasionally glancing at the door as if expecting something.
There was no communication between the three, and the silence was so thick it felt almost tangible.
Hearing our footsteps, they all simultaneously looked up. As we approached, they seemed to collectively breathe a sigh of relief.
"Let's all have dinner first," Alfred suggested, glancing at the tr
