Minutes dragged on like hours as they waited, the sterile hum of the hospital blending with their silent tension. Every so often, Grace would glance toward the emergency room doors, her hands twisting the hem of her coat. Steve paced, his footsteps a quiet rhythm against the tile floor. Adam sat rigid, staring at the floor, his guilt anchoring him to his seat.
Finally, the doors swung open, and a doctor stepped out. He was a middle-aged man with kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, his white coat crisp against the backdrop of the dim hallway.
“Family of the patient?” he asked, scanning the room.
Steve and Grace were on their feet instantly, with Adam close behind.
“Yes, we’re her family,” Steve said quickly. “How is she?”
The doctor offered a small, reassuring smile. “Elena is stable
