Rachel’s hands began to shake. “Yes. Has something happened?”

“Your husband has been in a traffic accident,” the voice said, the words precise and devastating. “He’s in critical condition. Could you please come to the hospital immediately?”

The world dissolved into a blur of buzzing fluorescent lights and the distant, muffled sound of her own panicked breathing. She somehow managed to explain the situation to her supervisor, her own voice sounding foreign and distant. The drive to the hospital was a nightmare of red lights and worst-case scenarios. David’s smile that morning, his kiss, his parting words—I should be home by tonight—echoed in her ears like a cruel taunt.

At the hospital, a grim-faced doctor named Johnson led her to a small, sterile consultation room. “Your husband’s car was struck by a vehicle that ran a red light,” he explained, his voice gentle but direct. “He suffered severe head trauma. He’s unconscious. To be honest, his condition is very precarious. Tonight will be a critical period.”