Chapter 98: Calling Richard

  Emma's hands trembled as she dialed Richard's number on her phone, her fingers barely able to press the right buttons. The bright screen glowed in the dimly lit hospital room, where the only other light came from the soft overhead lamp and the blinking medical machines. Sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair that squeaked whenever she moved, Emma watched her son sleeping peacefully in the white hospital bed. His small form seemed even tinier against the large pillows and crisp sheets, his chest rising and falling with each breath. The steady beep of hospital machines filled the silence, a constant reminder that although her son was alive, he wasn't well.   The room smelled of disinfectant and clean sheets—that distinct hospital smell that made everything feel sterile and unwelcoming. Outside the window, the sun was starting to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. Emma had lost track of how long she'd been sitting there, watching over her child and gathering the