"A patient... died because of me?"
The words hung in the air, cold and heavy, shattering the fragile peace of the hallway. Clara Lynn looked as if she had been struck. Her knees buckled, and she slid further down the wall, her hands trembling so violently that she had to tuck them into her armpits. The vibrant, rebellious girl who had been mocking Conrad Stone just hours ago was gone, replaced by a hollowed-out shell of terror.
Conrad frowned, his expression hardening into a mask of tactical focus. He didn't offer empty platitudes or a soft shoulder. In his world, panic was the precursor to death; clarity was the only path to survival. He knelt down so he was at eye level with her, his shadow looming large against the pristine wallpaper of the Violet Gardens estate.
"Start from the begi
