By six in the afternoon,
as twilight began to fade,
the doors of the emergency room finally swung open.
Alexander Stuart removed his blue mask, his face weary and covered with a sheen of sweat.
"Daddy, wipe your sweat." Obby Stuart passed him a red handkerchief, spotlessly clean from his time at school.
Alexander took it warmly, as if wiping away all his fatigue.
His son was his treasure and the force that powered his life.
"Uncle Alexander, I'm going in to see my mommy!" Edbert Walker dashed past him like a little leopard, sprinting straight into the emergency room.
"This child!"
Dilbert Walker had regained his composure and quickly asked, "Alexander, can people go in now? Is there a risk of bringing in germs?"
"...It's fine now," Alexander Stuart hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Then is Yolanda in any serious trouble?" Dilbert's heart had been in his throat, but midway, a nurse had come out and said the patient still had a heartbeat.
