Giving Toni A Call

The clock on the wall ticked past midnight, then half past, then crawled toward one a.m. It felt like the hospital itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to shift, but nothing did. The same fluorescent light flickered above them every so often, buzzing softly in the stillness. A cleaning staff member passed once with a squeaky cart, humming some song under her breath before disappearing down the corridor again.

Isabella had yawned twice in five minutes, trying to disguise it each time with a sip of her awful vending machine coffee. She did that thing where she scrunched up her nose and pretended it was the taste that made her eyes water, but Alex noticed, of course.