~ The Years Between Us~

The air in Sanjeevani Hospital, Mumbai, crackled with its usual controlled chaos. Patients hurried, relatives fretted, and staff moved with purposeful strides. But in Ward 142, an unusual stillness descended. Interns and resident doctors, who had been meticulously checking patient histories and reports, suddenly froze.
“Dr. Hridaya, bed no. 13’s CT scan report and bed no. 16’s urine test report?” Dr. Tarun’s voice, usually brisk, held a note of hushed anticipation.
“Yes sir. Bed 13’s report is in the file and bed 16’s is with the relative, since they did the test in a private clinic,” Hridaya replied, her voice soft, barely above a whisper.
Then, the silence deepened, becoming absolute. It was the kind of quiet that meant only one thing. The devil himself had arrived. Dr. Viraj Rao Bhosle, Senior Consultant and acting HOD of General Medicine, strode into the ward. He was a man in his late 30s, exuding an aura of terrifying perfection, his white coat impossibly crisp, his every movement radiating authority. Hridaya, peeking from behind a phalanx of resident doctors, felt a familiar shiver.
