Chapter 134
Making Them Feel Safe
As we stepped into the next room, the atmosphere shifted. It was thicker, heavier, as if the air itself carried weight. The lights were dimmed, the blinds drawn nearly shut, leaving long shadows stretched across the walls. The only sound was the soft, rhythmic whoosh of a ventilator, steady and relentless.
An elderly man lay in the bed.
His face was pale and gaunt, skin stretched thin over bone. Tubes and wires surrounded him, machines blinking and humming in quiet vigilance. Each shallow breath looked like effort, like a negotiation his body was slowly losing.
Dr. Evans approached the bed with a reverence that made the room feel smaller. His movements were slow and deliberate. He took the man's hand gently, as if afraid even touch might disturb what little peace remained.
"Good morning, Sir," he said softly. "How are you feeling today?"
There was no response. The man's eyes stayed closed.
