Chapter 4
[Vanya]
Hospitals have a different kind of silence.
Not the peaceful kind.
A waiting silence.
The kind where every second feels heavier than the last.
I stand outside the Emergency Room doors.
The red light above the entrance is still on.
Doctors move quickly behind the glass panels. Nurses pass through the corridor carrying equipment. The smell of antiseptic fills the air.
Everything feels sharp.
Too sharp.
Only an hour ago, we were in the same car.
Talking about ordinary things.
About the children.
About work.
About a café that had just opened near Krishna's store.
Now everything has stopped.
A doctor steps out of the Emergency Room.
I walk toward him immediately.
"Doctor… how is he?"
He removes his mask.
"We are still assessing the damage," he says.
"He is in critical condition, but we are stabilizing him."
My hands tighten.
"Is he conscious?"
"Not yet."
He studies the chart.
"Does your husband have any previous head injuries or medical history we should know about?"
For a moment, I hesitate.
Then I answer quietly.
"Yes.
Seventeen years ago, he survived another accident."
The doctor nods and writes something down.
"Thank you. That helps."
Then he disappears back through the Emergency Room doors.
The red light above the entrance remains on.
A police officer approaches a few minutes later.
"Ma'am, I need to ask a few questions."
I nod.
"Your husband was driving the vehicle?"
"Yes."
"The truck driver has been detained. We are filing the accident report."
I listen quietly.
"The truck swerved into his lane," he continues.
"There were witnesses."
"Will you file a formal case?"
"Yes."
He writes something in his notebook.
"We'll need your full statement later."
"That's fine."
The officer leaves.
The hallway becomes quiet again.
For the first time since the accident, I sit down.
My hands are still trembling.
On the chair beside me lies Ruhan's phone.
The emergency staff handed it to me when they brought him inside.
I pick it up.
There is one call I need to make first.
At 9:30 AM, I call his father.
The phone rings twice.
Then he answers.
"Hello?"
The sound of trains echoes faintly behind him.
He is still at the railway station.
For a moment I remember what I told Ruhan earlier that morning.
"Don't forget. After dropping me, you still have to pick up your father."
Now everything feels distant.
"It's me," I say.
A pause.
"What happened?"
"Ruhan had an accident."
Silence fills the line.
"He's alive," I add quickly.
"He's in City General Hospital."
Another pause.
"Can you go to the school first?" I say.
"The school?"
"Yes. Please pick up Yash and Anya."
"They shouldn't hear this from anyone else."
He understands immediately.
"I'll get them," he says.
"Then I'll bring them to the hospital."
"Thank you."
The call ends.
There is one more call to make.
I check the time.
9:58 AM.
I dial the school.
"City School," the receptionist answers.
"This is Vanya, Yash and Anya's mother."
"Yes, ma'am."
"My husband was in a road accident."
The words still feel strange.
"I need you to inform the principal."
"Of course."
"My son Yash is in ninth grade. Please call him to the office."
"We will do that immediately."
"My father-in-law will arrive shortly to pick up both children."
"We understand."
There is movement on the other side of the line.
A door opening.
Footsteps.
Then the principal's voice appears.
"Yash," the principal says gently.
"Your mother called from the hospital."
For a moment, the line becomes quiet.
"My mother?"
"There was an accident."
My fingers tighten around the phone.
"Who?"
"Your father."
The word hangs in the air.
"He's alive," the principal says carefully.
"Your mother is with him."
The receiver shifts.
Then I hear his voice.
"Yash?"
"Yes."
"There was an accident."
"I know."
"He's being taken to the hospital."
An ambulance siren passes outside the hospital entrance.
"Your grandfather is coming to pick you and Anya."
"When?"
"Soon."
"Which hospital?"
"City General."
I pause.
"Stay calm."
"I am."
"I know."
The line goes quiet.
Then the call ends.
The hallway returns to silence.
I lower the phone slowly.
Somewhere in the city, Ruhan's father is already on his way to the school.
Soon he will meet the children.
Soon they will come here.
The Emergency Room doors remain closed.
The red light above them is still glowing.
I watch it without blinking.
Waiting for the doctor.
Waiting for the children.
Waiting for the moment those doors finally open.
***
[Yash]
Hospitals feel different from the outside.
From the road, they look calm.
Inside, everything moves faster.
Grandfather walks ahead of us through the entrance.
Anya still holds my hand.
The automatic doors slide open.
Cold air and the smell of disinfectant rush toward us.
People move through the lobby quietly. Nurses pass with files. A stretcher rolls somewhere down the corridor.
No one speaks loudly here.
Even footsteps sound careful.
Grandfather stops at the reception desk.
"Emergency room," he says.
The nurse nods and points down the hallway.
"Second corridor. Waiting area."
We walk in that direction.
Anya's hand tightens slightly.
"Yash?"
"Yes?"
"This place smells strange."
"It's a hospital."
She nods slowly.
The red Emergency sign appears at the end of the corridor.
And beside the doors—
Mom.
She stands near the wall, arms folded tightly, staring at the Emergency Room doors.
For a moment she doesn't see us.
Then her eyes move.
And stop.
"Yash."
Her voice is quiet.
Anya lets go of my hand and runs toward her.
"Mom!"
Mom kneels and pulls her into a tight embrace.
For the first time since the phone call, I see something break in her expression.
Only for a second.
Then it disappears again.
She stands slowly.
Her eyes move to me.
"You came quickly."
"Grandfather drove fast."
Grandfather nods once.
"How is he?" he asks.
Mom exhales slowly.
"He's still inside."
A few minutes pass.
None of us say much.
Finally the Emergency Room doors open.
A doctor steps out.
We all stand.
"He is stable for now," the doctor says.
The word stable hangs in the air.
"He suffered a concussion and a fractured rib. There was internal bleeding, but we managed to control it."
Mom's shoulders relax slightly.
"He will remain under observation for the next twenty-four hours."
Anya looks up.
"Can we see him?"
"Not right now," the doctor says gently.
"But soon."
The doctor leaves.
Mom sits down slowly.
For the first time since we arrived, she looks tired.
Not just tired.
Heavy.
Anya moves closer and gently holds her arm.
"It's okay, Mom," she says softly.
"Dad is strong."
Mom places a hand on her head.
I step forward.
I want to say something useful.
Something that would help.
But the words feel small.
"He's going to be fine," I say.
Mom looks at me.
For a moment, I think she might believe it.
Then she nods.
Not because she is sure.
Because she wants to be.
Grandfather walks toward me.
He stops beside me and looks at the Emergency Room doors.
"Your father is strong," he says quietly.
I nod.
"You're thinking too much," he adds.
"Maybe."
He rests a hand on my shoulder.
"Sometimes," he says, "waiting is the hardest part."
"Yes," I say.
"I know."
Anya pulls my sleeve.
"Yash?"
"Yes?"
"When Dad wakes up… do you think he'll still want to hear about my first day?"
For a moment my mind starts thinking again.
Then I stop it.
"Yes," I say.
"He will."
She nods and leans closer to Mom.
The red light above the Emergency Room turns off.
The doors remain closed.
But the hallway feels different now.
Quieter.
Like the storm has passed.
Not finished.
Just quieter.
And we continue waiting—
together.