The hospital corridor smelled like antiseptic and fear.
Lena hated it.
The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above her, casting pale reflections across the polished floor. Everything felt too clean. Too quiet. Too controlled.
Nothing about tonight felt controlled.
Not after what had happened.
Not after him.
Inside the room, Noah slept.
Machines blinked softly beside his bed. His small chest rose and fell slowly, steady but fragile.
Lena sat beside him, fingers wrapped gently around his hand. His skin was warm. Alive.
Thank God.
But the image of him collapsing on the floor still replayed in her mind like a cruel loop.
The glass.
The blood.
The way his eyes had rolled back before Alex caught him.
Her stomach twisted again.
Across the room, Alex stood near the window. Silent. S
