English Version: Dandelions in the Wind

42

The hospital's walls and floor were painted white, giving the corridor a clean and comfortable feel. Along the passage, some patients were observed walking independently while others navigated in wheelchairs. The waiting area was furnished with sofas and chairs arranged for comfort and accessibility. Adjacent to the clinic rooms, there was a small playroom. Each section of the corridor featured its own reception desk, catering to those seeking medical consultations. The main hospital areas, such as the wards, emergency room, and surgery, were distinctly separated; only clinics and examination rooms were accessible along this route. Scattered throughout were several vending machines and the hospital also housed a small convenience store, a canteen, and a quaint garden that could be admired through the expansive glass windows.

Dionne Lucas moved briskly through the hospital, her phone pressed firmly to her ear, her expression serious with a trace of concern etching her brow. As she waited for a response, her furrowed brow relaxed slightly when she heard a faint click signaling that her call had connected.

"Dionne Lucas here, director of the Flavell Museum," she initiated, her hand moving expressively as she spoke. "I'm calling to address a serious issue regarding the condition of the artifacts loaned to us under your supervision." She paused, listening intently, her eyebrows knitting together in frustration upon hearing the response from the other end. Shaking her head disapprovingly, she continued reprimanding, "No, this is unacceptable. The 18th-century tapestry we received was supposed to be in museum-quality condition. Instead, what arrived was notably faded and frayed at the edges."

Dionne listened again, nodding intently as she continued her conversation on the phone. "Yes, I appreciate the challenges involved in transportation, but we need protocols followed to the letter," she insisted, her tone firm yet controlled. She rubbed her forehead, visibly straining to maintain her composure, and began to pace back and forth along the corridor. "We will need to discuss the way forward, and yes, this will include your financial responsibility for the restoration work. I expect a detailed report on your handling procedures by the end of this week," she stated authoritatively. Dionne then walked toward the waiting area, her stilettos clicking on the polished floor. She sat on a white sofa, the fabric of her knee-length dress subtly rising as she crossed her legs. "Thank you for your immediate attention to this matter. Good day," Dionne concluded the call formally, hung up the phone, and sighed deeply, leaning back against the sofa, her posture reflecting her fatigue.

"Are you alright? That call seemed to upset you quite a bit," Adelle inquired, her presence comforting yet curious as she sat in the waiting area, maintaining a respectful distance.

Dionne turned to face her mother, her expression a mix of surprise and vulnerability upon hearing the concern in Adelle's voice. A fleeting smile crossed Dionne's lips, though her eyes remained clouded with worry. "Uhm... it was just some bad news from work. Nothing I can't handle," Dionne replied hesitantly, her voice laced with uncertainty, still somewhat taken aback by Adelle's unexpected conversation.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Sometimes, it feels like the days bring more worries than comforts, doesn't it?" Adelle spoke softly, her attention briefly diverted as a patient in a wheelchair, escorted by a nurse, passed them.

Dionne nodded, her throat tightening as she swallowed hard, confronting the odd reality of speaking to an Adelle who did not seem to recognize her fully. "It does. And it's harder, you know when you feel like you have to deal with it all alone," Dionne confided, her voice tinged with sadness.

A look of sympathy washed over Adelle's face, her forehead wrinkling in concern as she observed Dionne closely. "Oh, my dear, no one should have to be alone through tough times," she expressed, her voice filled with genuine worry.