Kathleen’s ears were filled with the rhythmic pounding of her own footsteps echoing through the sterile, hollow corridors of the hospital.
The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly before her, an oppressive tunnel of fluorescent light and pristine walls that only heightened the knot of anxiety twisting in her chest. Her breathing was labored, shallow, as if the very air around her had thickened, and with each passing second, the walls seemed to inch closer.
Her eyes locked onto the number of the room she sought, and adrenaline surged as she pushed the door open, her pulse roaring in her ears.
But the sight before her stopped her dead in her tracks.
The bed was empty.
Sheets lay untouched, meticulously arranged as if no one had been there at all. Her heart sank, a leaden weight dragging her spirit into a void of dread.