The Lewis Center hospital slled of antiseptic and desolation, a sour mix that clung to the throat. The buzzing lights in the entrance hall cast a pale glow on the beige walls, where yellowed infection prevention posters hung. Hassan and Kaiser walked through the automatic doors, their sneakers squeaking on the worn linoleum. Hassan, his glasses slightly crooked, adjusted his gray sweatshirt, his nervous gaze scanning the reception. Kaiser, true to his nonchalant deanor, chewed gum, hands buried in the pockets of his black hoodie, his eyes still a bit too bright from the residue of his antidepressants.
The receptionist, a fifty-sothing woman with gray hair pulled into a bun, tapped lazily on her keyboard. Her badge read "Martha." Hassan approached, clearing his throat. "Uh, hello. Excuse . We’re here to see a patient who’s being discharged today. Carter Hakim."
Martha looked up, her glasses sliding down her nose.
"Hold on, let check..."
She consulted her screen, the clicks of her mouse echoing in the silence. "Room 312, third floor. The elevator is to the right." She returned to her screen without another word.
"Nice welco," Kaiser muttered, spitting his gum into a trash can. "She looks like she sells coffins on the side."
Hassan shot him a sidelong glance. "You have to complain everywhere you go?"
"It’s not complaining, it’s observing," Kaiser retorted with a sarcastic smile. "Co on, let’s move, we’re not camping here."
They took the elevator, an old contraption that vibrated as if it were about to give up. Hassan fidgeted with his glasses, thoughtful. "Do you think Carter’s okay? After what Ben did to him..."
Kaiser shrugged. "He’s breathing, right? That’s already a lot for a guy who took a vampire’s kick to the face."
Hassan grunted but didn’t respond. The elevator opened onto a green-walled corridor where nurses pushed squeaky carts. They found Room 312, the door ajar. Carter was there, lying on a bed with wrinkled sheets, an untouched al tray in front of him. His mid-length black hair was tousled, and his usually cheerful face was marked with dark circles. He grimaced as he tried to straighten his legs, a brace encasing his right knee.
"Yo, hero!" Kaiser called, leaning against the doorway. "You look like a guy who fought a grizzly. And lost."
Carter looked up, a weak smile on his lips. "Go fuck yourself, Kaiser. I’m in pain everywhere, and you’re here acting all cool."
Hassan sat on a plastic chair near the bed, his gaze gentle. "You okay, man? You look... not great."
Carter sighed, running a hand over his face. "My legs are killing . The docs say I dodged the worst, but I’ve got bruises down to the bone. What Ben did to ..." He shook his head, his tone turning bitter. "I did nothing, guys. I was there, swinging my bat like an idiot, and bam, he smashed . I was terrified."
Hassan placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you did what you could. We were all overwheld. Ben... that wasn’t him. Not really."
Kaiser snickered, leaning against the wall. "Yeah, you did what you could... which is nothing. You thought you were gonna play baseball with a vampire Jagd boosted by the sll of blood?"
Carter glared at him. "You’re such an asshole, Kaiser. You weren’t any better, getting your arm ripped off!"
"Yeah, but I stabbed that freak with my dagger," Kaiser retorted, showing a scar on his forearm. "You just flew into a tree. Nice try, champ. He fucked you up good. Hahaha."
Hassan raised his hands, trying to calm things down. "Okay, stop, you two. Carter, you’ve got nothing to bla yourself for. We were all freaked out. And Ben... he’s better now, thanks to Sabrina."
Carter looked down, playing with a thread on his sheet. "Yeah, but I’m ashad, man. You guys fought like crazy, and I was out in two seconds."
"It’s not a competition," Hassan said, his voice firm but kind. "We’re a team. You’re here, you’re alive, that’s what matters."
Kaiser rolled his eyes. "Yeah, great, let’s all hug it out. Are you done whining, Carter? Because I didn’t sign up for group therapy."
Carter shot him a dark look, but a smirk appeared. "You’re annoying, but I missed you, asshole."
The door suddenly opened, and Mrs. Hakim entered, cutting short their laughter. She was elegant, her brown skin contrasting with her fitted white dress. Her black hair, pulled into a bun, frad a severe yet graceful face. Kaiser raised an eyebrow, whispering to Hassan: "Damn, how did a woman like that give birth to a goofball like Carter?"
Hassan didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the necklace she wore. A coin-shaped dal hung around her neck, engraved with a strange face: on one side, a grinning skeleton; on the other, a woman with serpentine hair, surrounded by inscriptions in a language he didn’t recognize. His heart raced.
’The dusa Coin?’ he thought, troubled. He’d heard rumors about a relic linked to Die Hand im Schatten, but seeing it on Carter’s mother...
Kaiser, noticing his stare, nudged him. "Dude, stop staring at her chest, that’s Carter’s mom!"
Hassan jumped, his cheeks red. "What? No, it’s not... it’s her necklace, idiot!"
"Yeah, sure..."
Mrs. Hakim, ignoring their exchange, approached the bed, placing a hand on Carter’s forehead. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"
"Fine, Mom," Carter mumbled, embarrassed by the attention. "Just a bit broken."
She nodded, her gaze passing over Hassan and Kaiser. "Thank you for coming, but Carter needs rest."
Hassan, regaining his composure, tried a smile. "Uh, Mrs. Hakim, we’re having barbecues this week. It’d be cool if Carter could co. It’d take his mind off things."
She frowned, her tone firm. "No. He’s still too weak. Maybe in a few weeks."
Carter sighed but didn’t insist. Kaiser shrugged. "Too bad, Carter. You could’ve tasted my burnt sausages. A delight."
Mrs. Hakim ignored the remark, stroking her son’s hair. "Rest, okay? I’ll be back later." She left the room, her necklace glinting under Hassan’s gaze.
Hassan stood up, still troubled. "That necklace... I feel like I’ve seen it sowhere before."
Kaiser snickered, pushing him toward the door. "Yeah, in your wet dreams about MILFs. Co on, let’s go. Carter, get better soon, so we can laugh at your exploits again."
Carter flipped them off, but his smile was genuine. "You bunch of assholes. Thanks for coming."
They left, the corridor echoing with their footsteps. Hassan couldn’t shake the image of the dal. If it’s really the dusa Coin... He kept his thoughts to himself, but an idea was growing. Kaiser, anwhile, humd an emo-rap tune, oblivious to the danger looming over their group.
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