A few moments later, the quiet hum of machines in Osita's hospital room was interrupted by the sharp buzz of a phone vibrating against the side table.
The sound felt louder than it should have been in the stillness, cutting through the measured beeps of monitors and the distant shuffle of nurses in the corridor outside.
Osita opened his eyes slowly, irritation flickering across his face before settling into a dull calm.
He didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was. Some calls carried a weight that announced themselves, a particular insistence that meant trouble or complications he would rather avoid.
He reached out with his good arm, picked up the phone, and answered without greeting.
"Yes," he said, his voice flat.
"Osita," Anderson O'Hara's voice came through immediat
