The waiting room smelled like antiseptic and bad coffee and fear.
Emma had never been good at hospitals. They reminded her of the endless days watching her grandmother deteriorate, the sterile rooms where hope went to die. But this was different. This wasn't her grandmother slipping away slowly—this was Alexander's father fighting for his life while they all sat helpless.
Caroline Sterling had collapsed into a chair, her perfect composure completely shattered. She clutched a tissue that was already soaked through, mascara streaking her face in a way that would have horrified her under normal circumstances. Sophie sat beside her, one arm around her mother's shoulders, trying to be strong even though Emma could see her hands shaking.
And Alexander stood by the window, staring out at nothing, his face completely blank.
