Kris drove like a speed racer through the rush hour. He ignored the car honks and the faint yelling; he would not step on that brake pedal until he reached his destination.

One second felt like an hour, and the twenty minutes it took him to reach hospital felt like a lifetime. He parked with precision, jumping out of his car and ran towards emergency room, looking left and right for any information.

Someone in white coat stopped him. He could not think about anything but managed to choke the other’s name. The same person pointed the other side of the building. He ran immediately, almost forgetting to breathe. His head calculated every possibility, weighing different outcomes, eliminating the worst, hoping for the best. He hoped he wasn’t late. He hoped he would be okay.

Kris the corner and he could see his best friend running from another direction, their expression mirrored each other when they stopped in front of the operation room.

The light was on.

Zitao was inside.