Rita stepped out of the cab and into the clean, glassy entrance of GoodCure Hospital, her leather handbag clutched gently against her stomach. The warm sunlight filtered through the tall hospital trees, and the atmosphere seemed oddly thick—not with illness or gloom, but tension… buzzing, excited tension.
She paused at the reception, already feeling something was off.
Unlike her first visit, where everything had been calm and professional, today the hospital lobby resembled a beehive. Nurses in crisp white uniforms clustered in small, whispering groups. Some stood near the elevator, adjusting their hair hurriedly in the mirrored walls, while others swished past in purposeful strides, their heels clicking loudly against the marble floor. A few even dashed from one wing to another, e
