My heart skipped a beat, a cold dread pooling in my stomach.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts.

Grant didn’t answer.

He gave me a slow, terrifying smile that did not reach his eyes.

He reached out and tapped the clipboard at the end of my bed, the metal clinking against the frame.

“Get some rest,” he said softly.

“You’re going to need it.”

He turned and walked out of the room, leaving the door swinging open behind him.

The silence returned, heavy and suffocating, punctuated only by the steady beep of my heart monitor.

I looked at Margaret, whose expression had turned deeply troubled.

Before she could speak, the screen of her own tablet on the bedside table lit up with a sudden flash of light.

Margaret reached for the tablet, her fingers tapping the screen.

The blue light reflected in her glasses, casting sharp shadows across her face.

Her brow furrowed, and the color drained from her cheeks.

“What is it, Margaret?” I asked.

My voice sounded thin, like dry paper scraping against the quiet of the room.