A knock sounded lightly at the door before it opened.
Nurse Elena stepped inside, her expression shifting immediately as she took in Randi’s face.
“Hey… what’s going on?”
Randi didn’t answer right away.
She just looked at her. Lost.
“Turn it off, please,” she whispered.
Elena glanced at the screen and understood instantly. She crossed the room quickly, muting the television and turning it off completely.
Silence rushed back in.
“They won’t stop,” Randi said, her voice barely steady. “I can’t… get away from it.”
Elena moved closer, her tone soft but grounded.
“It’ll pass. News cycles move fast. Right now, people are just… concerned.”
Concerned.
The word landed strangely.
“The switchboard’s already lighting up,” Elena added gently. “Calls, messages… people asking about you.”
Randi blinked.
“People?”
“Friends. Collectors. Gallery contacts. You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”
A hollow feeling settled in her chest.
“They’re not… mine,” she said quietly.
Elena tilted her head slightly.
“What do you mean?”
Randi looked down.
“I don’t have anyone.”
The room seemed to still.
Elena didn’t press. She didn’t need to, and her empathy kicked into gear. She recognized depression when she saw the signs. She moved closer to her bedside, pointing.
“May I sit?”
Randi nodded.
“I noticed there were no immediate family members listed in your file.”
“I’ve never had any, ever.”
Elena reached and held Randi’s left hand in hers
