The hospital corridors reeked of antiseptic sharpness and the hollow illusion of hope, fluorescent strips overhead humming like a swarm of irate hornets, casting harsh shadows on linoleum floors worn smooth by countless tragedies.
Eleanor navigated them with deliberate steps, a bouquet of white lilies cradled in her arms. A token for Victor, whom she doubted deserved it, yet compelled to offer.
Closure? Curiosity? Julian's terse morning text. "Father in coma. ICU. Come if you want." had tugged at some frayed thread of duty, or perhaps masochism.
The old tyrant's plunge felt anomalous, a jagged piece in the mosaic of her unraveling world.
The ICU antechamber loomed sterile and subdued, a limbo of beige walls and plastic seating where grief hung suspended.
Vivan perched in a corner ar
