"Good morning, Mr. Bradley,” Vivian greeted, her voice warm but professional. It was the tone she’d perfected over the years, one that could carry compassion without crumbling under the weight of her own emotions.
He turned his head slowly, his gray eyes meeting hers. They were sunken, framed by dark shadows that spoke of sleepless nights and relentless pain, yet they held a flicker of life—a small ember of gratitude that hadn’t yet been extinguished.
“Morning, Vivian,” he replied, his voice low and raspy, each word an effort. The corners of his lips quivered in what might have been a smile if not for the lines of weariness etched deeply into his face. He shifted slightly on the bed, his frail hand tugging instinctively at the blanket that covered him. A soft wince escaped his lips as th
