The morning light crept reluctantly through the half-drawn blinds of the private room, painting pale stripes across sterile white walls. Outside, the storm had finally broken, leaving the world damp, washed clean, and eerily quiet. Inside, however, the atmosphere was anything but calm.
Bhavna entered the room with a fresh set of notes and a coffee she didn’t remember ordering. Her hair was tied into a neat bun, though a few strands escaped to frame her tired face. The previous night’s adrenaline had ebbed away, leaving behind the weight of exhaustion once more, but something else lingered too—an echo of the words that had slipped from Rian’s mouth before he lost consciousness.
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