The room was a cacophony of chaos and desperation, a battleground where life and death danced precariously close. Nurse Lydia, usually calm and composed, now moved with the urgency of a soldier under fire. Her phone, discreetly capturing every word, was her only weapon in a fight against a system gone mad.
As Officer Mills droned on, oblivious to the blood-darkened sheets and the despair etched into every line of my face, Lydia’s sharp gaze never left him. She knew the power of evidence, the way a single recording could shatter the lies being spun around me, lies thick as the fog of pain engulfing my body.
“Doctor, we need to move now!” Lydia’s voice was a razor slicing through the tension. Her eyes darted to Dr. Blake, who hovered at the edge of helplessness, torn between his oath to heal and the ruthless bureaucracy Mills embodied.
