The Hallway Holds Its Breath
Caleb’s hand was cold as it pressed the paper into mine, the faint rustle the only sound between the relentless beeps of machines.
“Emily, it’s time you learned why I really married Grace,” he whispered, his voice barely louder than the ventilator’s hiss.
I stared at the folded sheet, the edges crumpled from his grip, feeling the weight of his secret settle on my shoulders.
Behind the swinging doors, I could hear the frantic shouts of nurses, the metallic clang of a gurney being wheeled away.
Grace’s name was being called for emergency surgery; the doctors spoke in clipped, urgent tones that I could not make out.
