Chapter 29
The sterile hum of the hospital was suffocating. Fluorescent lights flickered above, casting a cold, artificial glow on the pristine white walls. Sydney sat in the waiting room, her hands clutched together so tightly her knuckles were white. Her breath came in shallow pulls, as though each inhale might shatter the fragile control she clung to. She hadn't spoken a word since arriving. Alan was pacing just beyond the double doors, his face drawn, his movements restless. He hadn't sat once. Every few minutes, his gaze would flick toward the hallway, searching for the doctor, for news—anything. His hair was damp from the rain, strands clinging to his forehead, but he didn't seem to notice. Sydney's eyes were fixed on a single spot on the floor, her mind spinning. Her mother was sick. Not
- Writer
