The faint hum of the fluorescent lights above echoed in the sterile silence of the hospital corridor. The faint scent of antiseptic mixed with the metallic chill of the air, and somewhere down the hallway, a machine beeped in an unsteady rhythm — a cruel reminder of life’s fragility.

Siyana sat there, her back pressed against the cold wall outside the operation theatre, her knees pulled close to her chest as though trying to hold herself together. Her heart wasn’t beating — it was hammering, every pulse echoing against her ribs so loudly she could almost hear it in her ears. She stared at the floor, the pristine white marble glinting faintly under the harsh light, and tried to focus on the cracks between the tiles just to stop herself from falling apart.