Chapter 9 - The Flatline
I ran down the red-lit hallway faster than I had ever run in my entire life.
I burst into intensive care room four, finding a massive swarm of doctors performing aggressive CPR on my sister.
The heart monitor beside her bed was emitting a continuous, high-pitched flatline tone that completely chilled my blood.
I shoved the glass vials into the hands of the lead transplant doctor, begging him to save Rosie before worrying about me.
The medical team worked frantically, utilizing every advanced intervention they had to try and restart Rosie’s failing heart.
The door opened behind me, and Ben was wheeled into the room on a mobile stretcher.
His shoulder was heavily bandaged, but he was fully conscious and watching the terrifying scene unfold.
He reached out with his good arm and grabbed my hand tightly, tears streaming freely down his pale face.
The lead doctor eventually stepped back from the bed, shaking his head with a deeply grim expression.
He slowly reached out and turned off the defibrillator machine, looking at Ben and me with profound sorrow.
May you like
"I am so incredibly sorry," the doctor whispered, reaching for the white sheet to cover her face.
Suddenly, a faint, rhythmic beep echoed from the silent heart monitor.
