When she headed for the door, he followed in silence. His movements were slow, almost robotic. He looked devastated. It made painfully clear just how much he cared for Caroline.
Dr. Quinn stepped out of Caroline's room. “Good evening, Dr. Hilton,” she greeted Olivia.
“Evening, Dr. Quinn.” Olivia’s voice shifted seamlessly from gentle to professional. “How’s the patient?”
“She’s stable but disoriented. She doesn’t remember her name, what happened, or even her parents. Typical after a traumatic brain injury. It will take some time for her to start remembering things.”
Olivia gave a small nod. “Thank you, Dr. Quinn. I’ll take it from here.”
Dr. Quinn paused for a moment before reaching out to squeeze Olivia’s shoulder, a quiet gesture of reassurance. But the warmth behind it barely regis
