🕚 11:07
The silence in the room wasn't empty.
It was heavy, almost suffocating.
The air was cold from the strong air conditioning, but the white fluorescent light created an artificial sense of warmth that slightly hurt the eyes.
Aïcha stayed completely still.
Her eyes were fixed on Braëlla without interruption.
She barely blinked.
If I move… if I look away… I might miss something.
Under her hand, Braëlla's skin was thin, slightly cold, with a few warmer areas left, like heat refusing to fully disappear.
The monitor filled the silence.
Beep.
Pause.
Beep.
Each sound vibrated in her chest like internal pressure.
— You're making that face again…
The sun was warm, almost heavy on the skin.
Fine dust floated in the air, visible in the light.
Braëlla squinted slightly, one hand raised against the brightness.
Aïcha stood still.
Why does this memory feel more alive than now?
— What face?
— The one of someone who thinks too much to live.
A soft laugh.
Warm wind passed gently between them.
🕚 11:27 — Return
The beep shifted slightly.
Barely.
But Aïcha felt it immediately in her throat, like sudden dryness.
The room felt colder, heavier.
Stay stable… just a little longer…
Lina was sitting against the cold wall.
But she didn't fully lean on it, as if even resting was dangerous.
The hallway air was dry, irritating her throat and slightly burning her eyes.
She stared at the shiny floor under the neon lights.
If I fall… I won't be able to get back up…
🕛 12:03 — Room
— Saturation unstable.
The fluorescent lights vibrated slightly, almost imperceptibly.
Aïcha felt her stomach tighten.
Her fingers clenched unconsciously.
The air felt heavier, as if it was missing symbolic oxygen.
The monitor's rhythm slowed.
Aïcha felt the sound physically drifting away.
No… not now…
— Prepare just in case.
The words "just in case" floated in the cold air of the room.
Aïcha felt a silent tension in her jaw.
Braëlla moved slightly.
A weak motion, like a lost reflex.
Under Aïcha's hand, her skin felt even colder.
Stay… please… stay…
🕛 12:33
— …Aïcha…
The word came out slowly.
As if it had traveled through a long, empty corridor before reaching her.
Lina wasn't moving anymore.
The cold hallway air clung to her skin and clothes.
She was barely breathing.
The beep changed again.
But this time, Aïcha didn't react immediately.
She watched.
As if she was afraid of breaking something by reacting too quickly.
🕐 12:58
— …stay…
The word was weak.
Almost swallowed by the silence of the room.
🕐 13:00 — End
The monitor kept beating.
Under white light.
In dry air.
In a clean room…
except for fear.
And you… if someone you love came back, but you felt they could slip away at any moment… would you still have the strength to believe?