The hospital's fluorescent lights felt super bright after the cozy vibe of La Virelli.
Emma walked up to the reception desk with Alexander beside her, her excitement from earlier now swapped out for a wave of nerves. "We're here to visit Ayla. She got admitted yesterday." She told the receptionist other details.
The receptionist, a tired-looking woman, checked her computer. "Room 347. Third floor, east wing. You've got about an hour before visiting hours are over, so keep it short."
"Thank you!" Emma said, turning to head to the elevators, but then pausing. "Is she... is she doing okay? I know you probably can't say much, but—"
The receptionist's expression softened a bit. "The patient is stable and resting alright. That's all I can share."
"That's good to know. Thanks."
Emma made her way to the elevators, with Alexander following closely behind. She kept pressing the button repeatedly, a nervous habit she'd developed over the years.
