Chapter 5 - The Return to Room 402
The sterile corridors of the private wing at Chicago General were eerily quiet as Graham Ashford pushed open the heavy oak door to Room 402, expecting to find an empty, freshly sanitized bed awaiting its next occupant. Instead, the room was shrouded in dim afternoon shadows, the floral arrangements wilted on the side table, and the air carried a lingering scent of baby powder and quiet desolation. A canvas baby bag lay half-unzipped on the floor near a crumpled pink blanket, and a small framed photograph of Claire and her newborn sat face-down on the nightstand.
A profound, crushing wave of vertigo hit Graham as he stepped further into the empty room, noticing the stark absence of any personal belongings or lingering traces of his son. He walked over to the clear plastic bassinet—now completely bare and wheeled into a corner—and stared at the metal identification card holder, which had been stripped clean of any name. The terrifying realization that he had ordered his own flesh and blood to disappear forever crashed down upon his arrogant facade like a physical blow.
