Miguel's POV
The emergency backup generator kicked in with a low hum, casting a pale, flickering light across the room. Shadows danced against the walls as the power struggled to stabilize. The lights kept dimming every few seconds.
The beeping of Diego's monitor slowed but remained unsettling. His breathing was shallow. Too shallow.
Marissa had the phone pressed to her ear, her hands trembling as she redialed Dr. Andrew.
"Call him back. Now," I snapped, voice harsher than intended. My knuckles were white as I gripped the back of a chair, the adrenaline burning through me.
The line clicked. Then a voice—calm, measured.
"Marissa. You hung up too quickly last time."
I snatched the phone from her hands, holding it close to my ear.
"How do you know about Diego?" I demanded, my voice sharp.
Dr. Andrew on the other end of the call chuckled softly. "Ah, the protective brother. Always so intense. I assumed you'd be the one calling me sooner."
