The corridor outside the ward still smelled of disinfectant and stale coffee, the kind of mix that clung to every hospital. Linsy’s heels clicked sharply as she approached the door. Her chest was tight. Her father had fallen, her mother’s frantic call had been enough to make her abandon everything and rush here.

She pushed the door open without knocking.

The sound hit her first: raised voices ricocheting off the sterile white walls, the kind of raw bickering that carried no shame. Then ...