The Faded Shield
The saline bag hung low, the fluid draining into the line that pierced Elias’s thin forearm, and you watched the level drop with a precision that felt like a prayer. It was three in the morning in the Ward 4 annex, a room that had once been a supply closet before the hospice expanded and ran out of money for proper renovations. The walls were peeling, revealing layers of old paint and darker...
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