The hospital smelled of antiseptic and boiled water, the sterile sting of bleach clinging to the air. White walls closed in on every side, broken only by a series of scuffed chairs pressed against the corridor. The low hum of voices and the occasional clatter of metal trays created a rhythm that echoed down the long hallway. Linsy moved quickly, her breath sharp as she clutched her bag. Her phone call with Fred replayed in her mind, her father’s anxious voice, the words Your mother fell still ...