Hailey's POV
The lights in the hospital didn't flicker, they went off immediately
One second the hallway was blinding white, sterile and sharp, and the next it was swallowed whole—like someone had reached out and snapped the spine of the building. The hum of machines cut off mid-note. The air-conditioning sighed once and went silent. For a fraction of a second, there was nothing but confusion and the sound of too many people inhaling at once.
Darkness rushed in.
Not the soft kind, not the kind your eyes adjust to. This was thick, aggressive blackness, the kind that erased edges and swallowed depth, the kind that made you suddenly unsure whether you were standing upright or about to fall.
Someone screamed.
Footsteps scrambled. Shoes squealed against tile. A metal tray cl
