The door to Axel's hospital ward creaked open slowly. James, seated beside the hospital bed, turned his head toward the entrance and saw a man in a white coat and face mask step inside. The figure looked like a doctor, clipboard in hand, moving with practiced ease.
"Good evening," the man said softly, his voice slightly muffled by the mask. He walked toward Axel's bed and began checking the machines, glancing at the IV lines and vitals monitor.
James blinked, confused. "Uh, is something wrong with him? A nurse just came in like five minutes ago to do that."
The man shook his head. "No, he's stable. I came to administer a nutritional fluid. Since he can't eat on his own, we have to maintain his energy levels through supplements. It's part of the routine."
James nodded slowly, though something didn't sit right with him. The nurse earlier had said the exact same thing—word for word. His brows furrowed, but he said nothing. He wasn't a medical expert, after all.
