The dull beeping of the monitor filled the background, but he ignored it. He had become all too used to the electronic sounds of the machines. The room was cast in darkness, the only sounds the monotonous beeping and soft, rhythmic breathing of the woman.
Her white hair seemed to glow in the moonlight that fell through the open window, lending her an otherworldly phosphorescence. He chuckled at the thought and shifted in the chair he occupied.
Deep in his pocket, he felt a vibration. He pulled out his phone and viewed the screen. The message on it was short and to the point:
Does she live?
With a grim smile, he responded with one word:
Yes.
Holding the phone lightly in his hand, he looked back to the sleeping woman, ignoring the buzzing of the phone. It sounded angry, as if it were c
