In the very early AM hours of a Tuesday that marked the beginning of the spring, a remote hospital right at the entrance of Washington DC was surrounded by security, there was a VIP patient inside, and no one was granted permission to go in.
But that wasn't all.
An anxious-looking man who kept pacing back and forward was about to get a fried brain in his head from all of the useless thinking that got him nowhere. It was literally where he was standing, nowhere. Or in the wrong place, to say the least.
'It should have been me next to her in that room right now,' he thought again and again. Driving his fried brain to the edge.
He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He already knew who it was, but this time, he wanted to check with his own eyes. By the time he got his phone out, it stopped ringing, his eyes scanned the screen.
74 missed calls, Mother.
