The monitor was a flashing crimson warning.
Arthur had ripped off his blanket and wires, his eyes wide with a manic desperation. Sarah grabbed him, her voice a sharp command in the chaotic room.
"You’re not dying tonight!"
The alarms eventually faded, leaving only a heavy, suffocating silence. Arthur lay weak, his tubes reattached.
""She went quiet," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Just like this room. One second she was there, and the next... she was just a body. This room took everything from me, Sarah. It took her voice, her warmth, her future. Why shouldn't it take mine too?""
Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, her heart heavy. "Because it can't take your memories, Arthur. It can only take the things that aren't real anymore. You are real. Your love is real."
"It doesn't feel real," he murmured. "It feels like a dream I can't wake up from."