Noah POV:
The waiting room chairs were too small, built for a body half my size, but I sat anyway, my knee bouncing, my head still throbbing with that low, constant ache that never fully left me anymore. Ivy had gone pale the second her phone rang, and I hadn't asked questions, just grabbed my keys and driven her here myself despite the headache blurring the edges of my vision the entire way.
A doctor approached us in the hallway, clipboard tucked under his arm. "Miss Sullivan? I'm Dr. Whitmore. I've been overseeing your grandmother's care since she was admitted."
I watched Ivy's hand tighten around mine as he explained the fall, the bruising, the heart function declining faster than anyone had hoped. Watched her go rigid when he mentioned a more aggressive treatment protocol, expensive
