Lola’s POV

The red light above the operating room had been on for hours.

It glowed through the corridor like a warning, painting everything in shades of crimson.

I stood there, staring at it until my eyes stung.

Every second that passed felt like another drop of water in an endless storm.

No one spoke. The only sounds were the faint hum of the ventilation and the ticking clock above the waiting benches.

Flint had been inside for almost six hours.

When Morgan left earlier, I thought he might ...