Chapter 2 - The Silent Ward
The tires of Ethan’s car shrieked against the concrete floor of the hospital parking deck. He did not bother finding an empty stall; he left the engine idling beside a curb, vaulted out, and ran toward the sliding glass doors. His tuxedo jacket billowed around his shoulders like broken wings. Inside, the sterile glare of fluorescent tubes bleached the world of all romance. He navigated the labyrinth of signs, his breath burning in his chest, his polished soles squeaking violently against the waxed linoleum.
Room 407 was at the very end of the corridor, tucked away in an alcove that received no afternoon light. Ethan reached the wooden door, his chest heaving, his fingers hesitating on the brass handle. Through the narrow rectangular pane of glass, he could see the rhythmic rise and fall of a bed sheet. He pressed the handle down, stepping into an almost sacred silence broken only by the rhythmic beep of a fetal heart monitor repurposed to track the mother’s vital signs.
Elena sat upright against a mountain of pillows, her dark wavy hair pulled back carelessly, revealing cheekbones that were sharper, more hollowed than he remembered. In her arms, tucked securely against her collarbone, was a tiny creature swathed in faded grey fabric.
She lifted her eyes slowly. There was no anger in them, nor was there triumph. There was only an ancient, weathered stillness that made Ethan feel entirely naked.
"Elena," Ethan choked, taking a single, fragile step inward. "Is this... is this real?"
May you like
Elena looked down at the newborn, her thumb tracing the soft curve of the infant's jawline before meeting Ethan's gaze again.
"He stopped breathing twice before noon, Ethan," Elena said quietly, her voice devoid of tears. "The doctors aren't sure he will make it through the night. And there is someone outside this building who wants to make sure he doesn't."
