When Bryant got to the hospital, his mind was solely focused on Kat. He limped through the entrance, his leg throbbing with each step, but the pain was secondary to his worry. The nurses and doctors immediately noticed his injury, rushing to his side, but he brushed them off. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he insisted, his voice strained and urgent. "Where's my wife? I need to see her."
The medical staff tried to steer him towards a wheelchair, concerned about the deep gash in his leg, but Bryant's determination was unyielding. His eyes scanned the bustling emergency room, searching desperately for any sign of Kat. The doctors persisted, their hands gentle yet firm as they attempted to examine his leg. "Sir, you need to let us look at this. You could be seriously injured."
But Bryant's thoughts were consumed by Kat. He pushed past the doctors, his voice growing louder and more frantic. "I don't care about my leg! Just tell me where she is!" His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing his fear and desperation. The sterile smell of the hospital mixed with the metallic scent of his own blood, creating a dizzying haze around him.
Finally, a nurse with a sympathetic expression approached him, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "Your wife is in surgery. She's in good hands. Please, let us help you with your leg so you can be there for her when she wakes up." Bryant's resolve wavered for a moment as he looked into the nurse's eyes. He realized that in order to be strong for Kat, he needed to take care of himself too. Reluctantly, he allowed the doctors to lead him to a nearby bed, his thoughts never straying far from Kat and the hope that she would pull through.
