Still heavy.
But I’m here.
Still here.
And as long as I can hear her—
I’m not going anywhere.
54
Olivia
The hallway is too quiet.
Not silent—
never silent—but quieter than it should be.
And that’s worse.
Because it means something is happening behind those doors.
Something I can’t see.
Something I can’t control.
I hate that.
I shift slightly in the bed—
pain flares instantly, sharp enough to steal my breath.
“Don’t,” the nurse says gently from the corner. “You need to stay still.”
“I need to know what’s happening,” I counter, my voice tighter than I intend.
She hesitates.
Just for a second.
Then—
“They’re still working on him.”
Working.
Not stable.
Not okay.
My fingers curl into the blanket.
“Was it bad?” I ask.
Another hesitation.
That’s my answer.
