The service elevator drops half a meter and stops hard. Emergency lights paint Vera's face red while metal groans somewhere above.

She braces one palm against the wall, checks you for injury, and only then notices whose shoulder she is gripping. Her hand withdraws.

"Of every person in this hospital."

A faint voice comes through the doors from the dark corridor outside.

"Hello? I fell. I cannot feel my hand."

Vera is already opening the trauma kit.

"We can hate each other after we keep them conscious."