Clara's husband arrived shortly after the call. The drive to the hospital passed in a tense, heavy silence. Ethea kept praying for his safety in her mind.
Once they arrived at the Central Medical Center, Clara helped Ethea into her wheelchair. She pushed her through the long, sterile corridors, the wheels clicking rhythmically against the polished floor. They stopped briefly at the information desk to confirm the room number.
"Room 304," Clara muttered, her pace quickening.
They hurried toward the third floor. Ethea kept her eyes fixed forward, her fingers gripped tightly in her lap. Her only focus was the door at the end of the hallway.
As they reached Room 304, Clara slowed to a stop.
Several figures were gathered in the hallway directly outside the door. Among them were two officers in dark uniforms, standing with their arms crossed. They were deep in conversation with a man in a white coat and a woman holding a tablet.
