°Jeremy’s POV.°
The hallway outside her room was too quiet.
It wasn’t the kind of quiet that brought calm. It was heavy, unnatural—like the air itself was holding its breath. I hesitated with my hand on the door handle, my pulse thudding unevenly in my ears. I had prepared myself for the sight I had become too used to: her lying there, small and pale, tethered to those machines I hated but depended on because their steady rhythm meant she was alive and in good health.
But when I pushed the door open—
The sound hit me first.
A sharp, continuous alarm. The heart monitor, shrieking into the silence, cutting through me like a blade. Its red lights blinked, urgent and accusing, screaming for someone to notice.
My eyes followed the noise, and then I saw.
Blood.
It stained the white sheet
