Sydney clutched the handle of her handbag tightly, her heels clicking sharply against the hospital's polished floors as she hastened through the corridors.
Her pulse was as erratic as her thoughts, the urgency in her stride far surpassing that of the assistant leading her.
The VIP room where Anna was admitted loomed ahead, but Sydney's focus was solely on reaching her daughter. Each step echoed her growing worry.
Please let her be okay.
The image of Anna suffering tore at her heart, the thought pressing down on her like a physical weight.
She glanced at the assistant ahead, his steady pace an irritant against her frenzied mind. As they approached the VIP ward, Sydney's imagination ran wild.
Is Anna in pain? Is she resting? Is she scared?
Her thoughts raced faster than her steps as she reached out for the door, her voice trembling as she whispered, "Anna..."
