Chapter 3: The Waiting Room
Four hours passed in an agonizing, sterile vacuum. Julian sat perfectly still in the private waiting area, the blood on his shirt now dried into stiff, dark patches. He refused offers of fresh clothes. He refused water. He simply stared at the blank wall opposite him.
Finally, the heavy doors pushed open. Dr. Aris, still in his surgical scrubs, walked out. His shoulders were slumped, his expression carefully guarded.
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"Julian," the doctor began, his voice lowered. "Clara survived the surgery. We had to place her in a medically induced coma to manage the severe cranial swelling and internal hemorrhaging." The doctor paused, his eyes dropping to the floor. "I am so sorry. The trauma was too severe. We couldn't save the twins."
Julian absorbed the words. A small, almost imperceptible nod was his only physical reaction. Inside, however, the last remaining thread connecting him to his mother completely severed. He stood up, thanking the doctor quietly, and made a silent vow to completely dismantle the empire his mother worshipped.
