The tension in the car shifted instantly. Hayden's expression darkening as he spun the car around and sped toward the hospital.
When we arrived, the air was thick with anxiety. Outside the operating room, Elliot sat hunched over on a chair, hands covering his face, his entire frame radiating guilt. Hunter stood by the wall, arms crossed, expression grim.
Hayden crouched in front of his grandfather, voice low and urgent. "How is she?"
Elliot didn't respond, lost in his daze. Finally, Hunter spoke, his voice heavy.
"It's bad. Brain hemorrhage. The doctor said she might be paralyzed after."
At the word "paralyzed," Hayden went still, his body slumping into the chair like the strength had been drained from him.
I knew what that word meant to him. Years ago, his parents had been in a car accident. His father died on the spot and his mother—paralyzed—had wasted away until she finally passed. The trauma of it had never left him. Even now, his hands trembled slightly.
Something in me softened. Without thinking, I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, offering the only comfort I could.
"It's just the worst-case scenario. Don't lose hope. Grandma is strong—she'll be okay."