I pulled it out with shaking hands. The screen read: "ICU Attending."
The moment I answered, even the wind seemed to stop.
"Dr. Winfield..."
Heavy. Urgent.
"The patient's pupils are dilating. All vitals are crashing."
"Where are you? Why isn't Dr. Henson here?"
"We... can't hold on."
The phone slipped from my fingers.
I knelt on the ground, facing the direction that car had disappeared, and screamed.
"Adrian—!!"
Only the bone-deep cold answered. My shadow stretched twisted and wrong beneath the streetlight.
Five a.m.
The sky hung a deathly gray-blue.
I don't know how I got back to the hospital.
I remember running red lights. Horns blaring, strangers cursing—noise from another world.
At the elevator, I watched the numbers climb.
Each one dragged my heart deeper.
I gripped my phone—last hope, last shred of dignity.
I dialed Adrian again.
This time, someone answered.
But it wasn't him.
"Hello?"
Lily's voice, sweet and syrupy, lazy with satisfaction.
"Oh my, it's Wendy, Senior Sister."
"It's so late—why are you still calling?"
I took a deep breath, forcing down the bloody sweetness in my throat. My voice came out so hoarse it didn't sound like mine.
"Put Adrian on the phone."
"Senior Brother…"