Mark paced outside the hospital room, his hands buried deep in his pockets. The sterile smell of disinfectant filled the air, mixing with the sharp tension that hung over him like a storm cloud. His mind replayed the argument with his mother over and over again, each word cutting deeper than the last.

Michael stepped out of the room, his face drawn and tired. He rubbed his temples before glancing at Mark, who froze mid-step.

“How is she?” Mark asked, his voice hoarse.

“She’s ...