Chapter 7 - The ICU Corridor
Now, at 7:14 PM, Victor Callaway stood outside the fourth-floor intensive care unit, his chest heaving, his sharp eyes wild with a panic he had never experienced in his entire life.
The double doors swung open, and Dr. Harrison—a senior trauma surgeon tied to the Mercer medical network—stepped out into the hallway, pulling off his latex gloves.
Victor crossed the floor in two massive strides, grabbing the surgeon by the lapels of his white coat with terrifying force.
“Is she alive?” Victor demanded, his voice cracking with raw, suppressed anguish.
Dr. Harrison didn't flinch, recognizing the dangerous predator standing before him. “She’s stable, Mr. Callaway. The concussion is severe, and she lost a significant amount of blood from the arterial laceration on her forearm, but we repaired the tissue. She’s sleeping now.”
The crushing weight pressing down on Victor’s chest evaporated, leaving him momentarily breathless. He released the doctor’s coat, stepping back and running a trembling hand through his dark hair.
“Can I see her?” Victor asked, the harsh authority in his voice completely replaced by a quiet, desperate plea.
May you like
“Protocol dictates family only, but given who you are—”
“I’m going in,” Victor said, walking past him before the sentence was finished.
