Roman walked away from the door, his jaw tight, forcing himself not to look back. He didn't know how close he had just been to uncovering what was behind the locked door.
—
Behind the closed doors of the surgical room, Estelle lay motionless on the operating table, her body still beneath the harsh white lights.
The steady rhythm of machines filled the air with soft beeps and the low hum of equipment, while the surgical team worked with careful precision around her.
Her eyes remained shut, lashes resting against her cheeks, completely unaware of the storm unfolding inside her own body.
Then, suddenly, the lead surgeon stopped. His hands hovered for a fraction of a second, his breath catching beneath his mask. A crease formed between his brows as his gaze sharpened.
"Oh, we have a problem," he said quietly, but the weight in his tone cut through the room like a blade.
Every movement around him slowed, and every eye was fixed on him.
