The room was too quiet. Gray’s hospital suite, usually filled with soft conversation or the hum of machines, now felt unnaturally still — like everyone was holding their breath. Isabel sat curled up on the small couch near the window, staring at her phone screen like she could will it to light up. Zach stood near the door, restless, glancing at the clock every few minutes. Charles was pacing, a rare display of unease cracking through his polished composure. Vivienne sat close to her son’s bedside, her hand gently resting over his, her gaze flicking between his face and the heart monitor, hoping for any sign — any shift. “Jess said she’s never gone off the grid like this,” Isabel murmured, her voice thin. “Even when she’s upset, she always checks in. She wouldn’t just disappear.” Zach f

