The air inside the intensive care unit was heavy with the sterile scent of antiseptic and the rhythmic, mocking hum of machinery. It was a cold, unfeeling environment—a place where life was measured in digital waves and artificial breaths.
Amy took three hesitant steps inside, her boots clicking softly against the linoleum before the heavy door swung shut behind her, sealing out the rest of the world. Her breath hitched in her throat, a choked sob escaping her lips before she could stop it.
There he was.
