Linda's search led her through the hospital's quiet corridors, her footsteps echoing against polished floors as she checked the cafeteria, the family waiting areas, even the small chapel.
Nothing. No sign of him.
Her anxiety grew with each empty space, each unanswered call of his name.
Then a thought struck her: maybe he went back to their room. Maybe he needed a moment to rest, to process everything.
Determined, she retraced her steps to the family rooms.
Her hands trembled slightly as she slid the card and pushed open the door to their assigned space.
The small room was dim, lit only by the filtered afternoon light coming through a single window. And there, sitting on the edge of one of the narrow beds, was Alex.
He sat perfectly still, his shoulders curved inward, staring at something only he could see.
His hands hung loosely between his knees, and Linda's heart clenched when she noticed the telltale tracks on his cheeks... evidence of tears he'd shed in private.
