A Conversation Long Overdue

Delphinia's heels clicked softly against the polished hospital floor as she walked down the long, sterile corridor. The overhead fluorescent lights cast a pale glow, illuminating the pristine white walls lined with framed paintings—artificial attempts at warmth in an otherwise cold environment. Her fingers curled around the strap of her purse, knuckles slightly white from the pressure.

She hadn't planned on coming. Even when Lyvia had told her about their father's condition, Delphinia had thought she would feel nothing. But here she was, standing in front of the room where Robert Harrington lay, contemplating whether or not to push open the door.

Taking a deep breath, she finally stepped inside.