The nurse’s words kept echoing in Clara’s mind—She needs her first surgery now—but they felt unreal, as if they belonged to someone else’s nightmare.
Her legs moved before her brain caught up, following the nurse down a corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly. The sharp scent of antiseptic clawed at her nose, burning her throat. Somewhere nearby, a heart monitor beeped—too fast, too loud, too alive.
Through a half-open door, she caught sight of Lily—her small body nearly swallowed by the hospital bed, skin pale against the stark sheets, an oxygen mask covering her face. The sight rooted Clara in place, her stomach twisting into a knot that might never come undone.
“Ms. Hart!” the nurse called sharply, snapping her forward again.
Inside, two doctors were already at Lily’s side, their
