Shelly hurried down the hospital corridor, her footsteps echoing in the sterile silence. Her heart was pounding so loudly it felt as if everyone could hear it. When she finally reached her father's ward, she stopped short.
Through the half-open door, she saw a doctor and two nurses standing by her father's bedside, speaking in low voices. Their expressions were tense.
Mr. Herlen lay motionless on the bed, his eyes closed, an IV drip feeding clear liquid into his arm. The sight made Shelly's chest tighten painfully.
She stepped forward quickly. "Doctor… when was my father admitted? And what exactly happened to him?"
The doctor turned to her, his voice calm but serious. "Your father suffered a stroke. We've already ordered a series of tests, and the results should be ready by tomorrow. For now, he's on medication through the IV."
Before Shelly could process it fully, one of the nurses handed her a folded prescription.
"Please get these medicines from the pharmacy as soon as possible."
Nodding quickly, Shelly rushed to the hospital pharmacy, bought everything as listed, and returned to the ward.
Still unsettled, she went to the reception desk. "Excuse me… could you tell me who admitted my father to the hospital?"
The receptionist glanced at the record. "It was a young man. Tall, well-dressed. He gave his name as… Mr. Vegas."
The name hit her like a faint echo — familiar, yet she couldn't place it.
Vegas…? Why does that sound so familiar?
Could he be one of her father's acquaintances? Or… someone from her father's past?
Shelly completed all the admission paperwork and then stepped outside to one of the benches. She sat there, waiting, her mind chasing questions without answers.
At some point, fatigue took over. Her head leaned back, and she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
When she woke, sunlight was spilling into the corridor. Morning had arrived.
She hurried to the reception desk again. "Are my father's reports ready? And… can I see him now?"
"Yes, ma'am," the receptionist replied. "The reports are in. And you can visit your father. But there's already someone with him at the moment."
"Oh, I see," Shelly said softly.
The receptionist smiled faintly. "But you can still go in if you like."
Without another word, Shelly's anxiety spiked. She all but ran down the corridor toward the ward.
Pushing the door open just a little, she froze.
A tall, strikingly handsome young man was sitting by her father's bed. His posture was calm, but there was an intensity in the way he looked at Mr. Herlen.
From where Shelly stood at the doorway, his face was hidden from view — but something about his presence made her heart beat faster.
Could this be… Mr. Vegas?
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