CHAPTER 56

Agatha POV:

The hospital air felt heavy, thick with the smell of antiseptic and a quiet kind of panic.

Every beep of a machine, every muffled cry from somewhere down the hall, every hurried whisper from the nurses, made the fear inside me grow stronger.

Dad was still unconscious. The only sign he was alive was the steady rhythm of the ventilator.

His face, usually so full of life, looked pale and weak. The worry lines were etched deep into his skin.

I had been praying that he’d wake up.

I clung to the hope that his strong will, his fighting spirit, would pull him through.

But the doctor’s words, even though he tried to be gentle, kept echoing in my mind: "Critical condition."

It was a constant reminder that Dad was hanging on by a thread.

I was exhausted. My eyelids feel heavy, my head dizzy. I needed coffee, something to keep me going, to keep the darkness away.

As I walked down the long hallway towards the cafeteria, I saw him.

Charles.

He was arguing with the receptionist, hi