The afternoon light filtered weakly through the ICU windows, casting pale tones across the white floor and the machines surrounding Arthur’s bed. The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only soundtrack in that sterile silence. The ventilator whispered softly, even though Arthur was already breathing on his own. He had been sedated for hours, but now his fingers twitched.

The resident beside him noticed immediately and called the attending physician. Within seconds, two doctors approached the bed while a nurse adjusted the machine’s settings. The senior physician, seasoned and calm, placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

“Arthur? Dr. Arthur? Can you hear me?”

His eyes shifted beneath his eyelids, and with effort, he opened them slowly. The white ceiling appeared in blurred shapes. Sounds sharpened.

“Where… am I?” he murmured, voice rough.

“You were in a car accident. You’re in the ICU. You survived, but you went through a delicate surgery.”

Arthur coughed, a sharp pain stabbing his r