THIRD PERSON'S POV
Eleanor sat in that cold, sterile waiting room with legs bouncing out of control, hands twisting in her lap. The air was thick with the stench of antiseptic and something else- something metallic, almost like blood. The walls were an unholy shade of pale green, and over the reception desk the clock ticked with maddening precision, carving out each second like a blade through flesh.
Eleanor hated that sound. Each tick was every moment wasted-another breath Elon could be losing.
She barely noticed the nurse call her name. At the sound of her name, Eleanor sprung to feet, stumbly, and quickly, market toward the hallway, where her body was running on something between adrenaline and complete exhaustion-the sympathetic glimmer of the nurse hitting her as she was led from
