Maya's POV
The cardiac surgery wing at St. Jude Hospital buzzed with quiet efficiency, but nothing could ease the crushing weight of anxiety that filled our private waiting room. After flying through the night on Sebastian's private jet, our small group had assembled here—Sebastian, Dominic, Beatrice, Geoffrey, and myself. The sterile white walls seemed to close in around us, amplifying every worried breath and restless movement.
The journey had been suffocatingly silent. Arthur had refused every medical suggestion to travel by ambulance, his jaw set with that familiar stubborn pride we all knew too well. "I'm walking through those hospital doors under my own power," he'd declared with unwavering determination. True to his word, he'd stepped off the jet with confident strides, exchanged polite pleasantries with the waiting medical team, and walked into the hospital as casually as if he were heading to a business meeting.
