Mom! should I hand the doctor the powder Grandma mixed into the milk?
The hospital is usually defined by routine. Monitors beep steadily, carts roll quietly, and nurses exchange clipped sentences. But that night, everything changed. The atmosphere thickened, suffocating, as if the building itself had forgotten how to breathe. Phones rang behind the nurses’ station, urgent and sharp. Security arrived, followed by police officers, their belts clinking…
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