**Fifteen Minutes Earlier**
The room was silent except for the soft rhythmic beeping of the monitors and the low hum of the air conditioning. Light filtered in through the drawn curtains, casting faint, golden stripes across the smooth white bedsheets and the delicate curve of Serena's still form.
Marlowe stepped into the room with quiet, clinical intent, her steps almost soundless against the polished marble floor. The scent of antiseptic hung subtly in the air, overlaid faintly with the warm notes of the lavender perfume which she had used sparingly moments ago.
Lucian sat in his usual spot, the single-seater he had insisted be placed near Serena's bedside when she fell into this unnatural sleep.
He sat with one leg crossed over the other, his back straight and gaze fixated on the phone in his hand. His fingers scrolled with mechanical detachment, but his attention wasn't really on the screen.
