Then Dr. Patel appeared on screen.
I remembered him.
The doctor with tired eyes and a clipped voice.
He looked at the chart, then at the nurse.
“Proceed,” he said.
Hannah stepped forward. “Doctor, I’m not comfortable with this.”
“Proceed,” he repeated.
I could barely breathe.
On the screen, Hannah hesitated.
Another staff member moved in.
The medication was given.
Grace’s tiny body reacted almost immediately.
The room changed.
People moved faster.
Monitors alarmed.
Hannah shouted for help.
And then the video cut forward.
I slammed the laptop shut.
For several minutes, I could not move.
I could not cry.
I could not even make a sound.
My body sat in that quiet room, but my soul was back behind the ICU glass, watching the curtain close.
Eventually, with trembling fingers, I opened the laptop again.
Because I had to know.
I owed Grace that much.
