Outside the operating room...
time seemed to stop. The bright red emergency light above the theater door remained lit.
Doctors moved behind the frosted glass.
Their shadows crossed back and forth.
Fast. Urgent. Relentless.
Sebastian sat alone on the metal bench.
His hands were still stained with Hayes' blood. Someone had tried to clean them.
He had refused.
The dried crimson across his fingers reminded him of one truth.
Hayes had stepped in front of a bullet that belonged to him.
The hospital corridor remained unusually quiet. Secret Service agents guarded every entrance. Intelligence officers whispered into encrypted radios.
Cabinet ministers arrived one after another.
Nobody knew what to say.
Vivian approached slowly.
She sat beside Sebastian without speaking.
For a long time, neither of them moved.
Finally she reached for his hand. He didn't look at her. "I should have listened."
Her voice was gentle.
"Listened to who?"
"Hayes."
