Chapter 19
Thirty-year-old Mitchell Burgess took off his rectangular glasses. He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He stood next to Tucker, facing Dr. Brighton in the waiting room. He’d been on edge for an hour, anxiety growing. He had needed news of Harris’ condition, and now that he was getting it, he wished he wasn’t.
A family of three on the other side of the room looked uncomfortable. A middle-aged man left the room.
Mitchell heard Dr. Brighton’s words, even as they blurred together.
Unexpected complications. ICU. Coma.
Tucker started crying and the doctor put a hand on his shoulder. Comforting words. Rehearsed words. How many friends and family members had the doctor told similar information to? Were they just another in a long line of hospital misery?
Still to
