*****
Outside, the night is cold and silent. The city, shrouded in shadows, seems to have stopped, as if the whole world is holding its breath along with me. The drive seems endless, even though the traffic lights seem to open as if they know my urgency. Every minute behind the wheel is a silent battle between fear and hope.
Fear that everything experienced these days is nothing more than an illusion. Hope that it wasn't.
When I finally arrive at the hospital, the building's white lights blind me for a moment. I take a deep breath. The air is thick, saturated with disinfectant and that human anguish that floats in the hallways like a permanent guest. I cross the lobby with quick, almost robotic steps, and head straight to the intensive care floor.
My heart beats so loudly that I swear
