The Waiting

Tiana's muffled crying was the only sound in the deadly quiet corridor. Though only nine years old, she understood with a child's terrible clarity that her elder sister was fighting for her life. Her sorrow and despair mirrored everyone's feelings, including Jacob's. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white, and roughly rubbed the tears away before they could fall.

Theresa, on the other hand, gripped her husband's arm as if it were the only thing anchoring her to the world. Silent tears traced paths down her pale cheeks; she was powerless to stop them.

Andrew was in no condition to offer his wife empty assurances. They had all seen the frantic nurses and heard the shouted updates. No sweet words could convince her otherwise. He just sat beside her, wrapping her in a tight hug, letting his solid presence speak where words failed. He couldn't show his own crumbling weakness. He had to be the pillar for his family. At this point, all they could do was pray and wait for a miracle.

One agonizing hour slipped by. Finally, one of them spoke in a hushed tone, breaking the silence. Tiana's sobs had quieted into hiccupping breaths. She looked more stable than before, retreating into a corner of the hard plastic chairs where she hugged her knees. Her red-rimmed eyes were fixed on the sterile white floor, unseeing.

Jacob sat next to her, a silent guardian. He was tapping on his phone, mechanically texting their wide circle of friends with updates on Aurora's condition. Coming from popular, wealthy families, they never lacked for concerned acquaintances. His screen flooded with messages of sympathy and worry, each notification a stark reminder of the everyday world still turning outside this hospital nightmare.

Maximilian was still standing. He had shifted from the center of the hallway to lean against the cold, painted concrete wall. His bloodshot eyes remained glued to the operating room doors, as if his alone could keep them shut until the job was done.

Suddenly, the doors swung open and two nurses rushed out, their movements sharp with purpose. They were heading for the blood bank again. One of them paused for a split second, her eyes softening as they fell on the huddled, devastated family.

Feeling a pang of pity, she offered a few crumbs of information. "I know you are worried, but the patient hasn't stabilized yet. Since she lost a lot of blood, we are giving her as much as we can. The surgeons have already stopped internal bleeding, so she isn't losing any more. We contacted the Blood Bank an hour ago, and we finally have a stable supply. With the amount we have now, her condition should stabilize soon. Only then will the main spinal surgery begin. It might take more than ten hours."

She looked at their drawn faces. "In the meantime, please try to eat and rest. I know it's hard, but your daughter would want you to stay healthy. She will be sad when she wakes up and sees that her family has become ill because of her."

The nurse left after delivering her update. Knowing that the surgeons had found and repaired the internal injuries allowed a sliver of fragile hope to pierce their despair. At least one major life-threatening problem was solved.

Maximilian pushed himself off the wall and walked toward Jacob. "Take Mr. and Mrs. Reid and Tiana to the canteen to eat something," he instructed, his voice hoarse from disuse. "The operation will take time. There's no point in everyone wasting away here. Mrs. Reid isn't feeling well. She needs rest and food."

"What about you?" Jacob asked.

"Buy me a sandwich. I'll wait here," his cousin replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Realizing his cousin's stubborn resolve to stand guard until the very end, Jacob didn't try to persuade him.

As he stood up, he heard Tiana's small protest. "I don't want to eat. I'll wait for Sissy."

Jacob bent down, his heart breaking at the sight of her tiny, defiant form. "I know you're worried, but if you starve yourself, your Sissy will be very sad. Do you want her to be sad?"

They had watched this tiny girl grow from birth, always doting on her. Sometimes, they would even accompany her to school to make her smile. At a time like this, their patience for her was infinite.

Tiana didn't want to make her Sissy sad because of her. But she didn't want to leave either, afraid something would happen the moment she looked away. She was torn.

Noticing her hesitation, Maximilian added, his voice softer than usual, "Jacob will buy your favorite strawberry ice cream if you go and eat with him."

The tiny figure hesitated, her lower lip trembling. "But I don't want to eat ice cream without Sissy. She always shares her ice cream with me."

"Then I will buy a massive box of strawberry ice cream for your Sissy to share with you when she wakes up," Jacob promised. To prove it, he immediately called his driver and placed the order right there in the hallway.

With the promised ice cream officially on the way, Tiana had no reason to refuse. She reluctantly slipped her hand into Jacob's.

Andrew and Theresa didn't want to go either, but seeing Tiana's sunken face and hearing Maximilian's quiet, logical persuasion, they finally agreed, their movements slow with exhaustion.

Inside the operating room, the team worked with relentless focus. Nurses continuously monitored the transfusion, replacing the blood volume Aurora had lost. The surgeons studied the detailed CT and MRI scans of her shattered spine, planning their approach. Ryan Damson scanned the results, his expression growing grim as he assessed the damage to the L1 vertebra and the pressure on the spinal cord.

The sky outside grew dark. Finally, after ten grueling hours, the operating room lights were switched off.

The doors opened and Aurora was wheeled out, a small, still figure lost in a tangle of tubes and wires. An oxygen mask covered half her face, and she was paler than the hospital sheets.

In the long hours, Jacob had left, emotionally and physically exhausted. The Reids' driver had taken a sleeping Tiana home to rest. Andrew had been forced to the office by an urgent company call but had rushed back just before the operation ended. Theresa had stayed the entire time with Maximilian, the two of them sharing a silent, fearful vigil.

Now, Andrew and his wife rushed forward, their hearts breaking anew. They had seen her just that morning, so lively and excited about her group assignment. This was the first time they had laid eyes on her since the accident, and the contrast was a physical blow.

Ryan Damson finally emerged, his scrubs rumpled and his face etched with profound fatigue. His gaze was heavy as it settled on the familiar, anxious faces.

"The surgery was as successful as it could be," he began, his voice raspy. "We repaired the internal damage and transfused eight units of blood. She's in the ICU now." He took a weary breath, the weight of the next words evident in his pause. "We stabilized her spine and relieved the pressure on her spinal cord. The next 72 hours are critical. The extent of the neurological damage... we won't know until she wakes up."