What now?

Aria

The hospital air was too sterile, too heavy, too suffocating. I had spent hours in the same stiff chair, my fingers laced so tightly together that my knuckles had gone numb. Every ticking second had stretched endlessly, my prayers tangled with fear, my stomach twisted into knots so tight I thought I'd be sick.

Then, finally—

The doors swung open, and a doctor stepped out, his expression calm, composed.

"The surgery was successful," he said. "We were able to remove the tumors. Her vitals are stable, and we'll keep monitoring her closely, but for now… everything looks good."

I exhaled so hard I felt lightheaded. Relief crashed into me, making my vision blur for a second. Beside me, Olivia let out a sharp, choked breath before scrambling to pull out her phone.