n them. I stumbled behind, my heart racing, the chill in my spine crawling upward. The house manager was frantic, constantly asking questions, demandi

o spin around me, the air growing thick with panic. My min

g I had done that morning. I had served him the usual breakfast-custard. Then, I gave him his medication. That was it. That was all. But the way the house manager was looki

ause I feared being arrested for something I had no control over. As much as my heart want

. Christopher was rushed into one of the private rooms in the VIP ward. It was his family's hospital, so the doctors were familiar with his condition. But fa

help but feel the weight of his stare. Each moment that passed without a word felt like a countdown. My chest tightened with every tick of the clock, and the air around me seemed to press in, suffocating me. Every time

y trader, scraping by every day. My younger brother was still in school, struggling to make something of himself. They needed me, and I couldn't afford to fail them. I had worked so hard

hours. How had I gotten here? How had everything become so tangled? The guilt gnawed at me. The house

a mistake? What if I gave him the wrong dosage of his medication?* The thought was like a kn

erged from the room. I stood up immediately, my heart thundering in my chest. I moved toward them, desperate for any news,

. "We did everything we could to stabilize him, but his conditi

ed to hang in the air, spinning around me, refusing to sink in. A coma

My vision blurred, and I felt a hot rush of tears that I couldn't hold back. My hands shook as I wiped my

on unreadable. He didn't speak. There was not

hind them. The room seemed smaller, suffocating. I could feel my chest tightening again. *

ll through. The house manager's cold silence was unbearable. What did he think of me now? Would he believe I had no

Not when I was so close to finally