The hospital corridor that night felt cold and silent. Pale white lights flickered above, casting a soft glow over Rosemary’s tear-streaked face. She sat on the waiting bench, her trembling hands clutching Adrian’s bloodstained scarf.

Hours had passed since Adrian was moved to the ICU. Rosemary hadn’t moved an inch. Every sound of footsteps from the nurses made her lift her head in hope—only for emptiness to greet her again.

Damien and Markus stood a few meters away, both looking just as exhausted.

“She hasn’t eaten since morning,” Markus murmured, concern etched in his tone as he watched Rosemary.

Damien exhaled heavily. “If I force her to eat now, she’ll...