Adrien sat back in the hospital bed. Vicky’s quiet tears made reverberations in his mind; it seemed he could hear them all the louder. The air currents shifted in the pitch-dark as Greg settled into a chair. The rustling motions of his jacket made Adrien assume that Greg was putting his head in his hands.

The doctor backed away and sighed, a subtle one, but it boomed in contrast to the nothing that Adrien saw. A finger was pressed to the wall, and soon, footsteps were echoing down the hall.

The door creaked. More footsteps, light, flat-soled. Adrien felt soft hair brush his face as his eyelids were slid open by delicate fingers. “Mm-hmm.” A woman’s voice, young, it seemed.

The voice exhaled and the footsteps receded to the doctor’s location. A murmuring exchange between the two, one that Adrien couldn’t even hear, and the woman returned. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and she faded out of the black. Yes. Young, definitely, maybe even Adrien’s age. Unfamiliar voice. An intern?