Chapter 2 - Breaking the SilenceOver the following nights, Harper found her thoughts constantly returning to Room 412. She adjusted her routine so that Rowan was always her final check of the night shift.
On the fourth night, Harper crossed a critical line. She brought over-ear, noise-canceling headphones in the deep pocket of her hospital scrubs—a clear violation of medical policy regarding unsterilized electronic equipment.
At 2:15 a.m., she stood beside Rowan’s bed as he lay staring hopelessly at the ceiling.
“I don’t want the treatment tonight,” Rowan muttered.
“I didn’t ask,” Harper replied quietly, placing the headphones gently over his ears.
Before he could pull away, she pressed play on her phone. The rich, soaring notes of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto filled his ears.
Rowan froze. Tears spilled from his eyes without warning, streaming down his pale cheeks. In an impulse of sheer emotional drowning, his hand shot out and gripped Harper’s wrist tightly. He wasn't seeking romance; he was reaching for a lifeline.
Harper stood still under the fluorescent lights, letting him hold her hand until the last chord faded away.
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“I’m sorry,” Rowan whispered, letting go.
“Don't be,” Harper said softly, rubbing her wrist. For the first time in years, the cold stone around her heart began to crumble.
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