Looking For Amy....

°Jeremy’s POV.°

The hallway outside her room was too quiet.

It wasn’t the kind of quiet that brought calm. It was heavy, unnatural—like the air itself was holding its breath. I hesitated with my hand on the door handle, my pulse thudding unevenly in my ears. I had prepared myself for the sight I had become too used to: her lying there, small and pale, tethered to those machines I hated but depended on because their steady rhythm meant she was alive and in good health.

But when I pushed the door open—

The sound hit me first.

A sharp, continuous alarm. The heart monitor, shrieking into the silence, cutting through me like a blade. Its red lights blinked, urgent and accusing, screaming for someone to notice.

My eyes followed the noise, and then I saw.

Blood.

It stained the white sheets in patches, bright and raw, still fresh. The IV pole leaned at an odd angle as it dangled, its line disconnected, dripping useless drops on the floor. Wires tangled across the mattress as if ripped away in