The hospital corridors were quiet at night—too quiet.
Machines hummed softly. Nurses whispered. Rain tapped against the long windows like a restless ghost.
Samantha walked slowly down the hall, her heels muted against the polished floor. She carried no files, no tablet, no guard.
Just a small bouquet of white flowers she bought on impulse.
For Lynn.
The girl who once brought her coffee with shaking hands. The girl who stayed late without being asked. The girl who believed Samantha was invincible.
Samantha wasn't sure if that made her feel stronger…
or guilty.
---
When Samantha entered the room, the dim light fell over Lynn's pale figure—still, fragile, lost between life and death.
Machines beeped rhythmically.
A steady heartbeat. Hanging on.
Samantha set the flowers on the bedside table.
For a moment, she simply stood there.
Then, very quietly—
she pulled the chair closer and sat.
She took Lynn's cold hand in hers.
Her voice was soft, barely a whisper.
