Late
Candace was outside the room 647, unable to mutter a word. Her eyes were focussed on the white wall in front of her. A little red stain was there. Almost invisible. ‘Is it blood?’, Candace asked herself.

Mildred was taking care of all the arrangements, including having to talk to Joseph's family and, of course, dealing with the police.

"Darling, take it." The smoke from the hot coffee made Candace look at the small Styrofoam cup, filled with the steaming liquid, and then at the woman holding it. The blue eyes behind the glasses expressed both empathy and concern.

Candace didn't say anything, just held the cup, while Mildred smiled at her and walked away. She had a lot to do.

When Mildred returned, the cup was still in Candace's hand, and the coffee was very cold. Mildred took a deep breath. She had been working at the hospital for some time and was used to the occasional patient passing away, especially since most of them were elderly. Many of them with some illness, not only ment
M Zana Kheiron

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