INT. GREY SLOAN MEMORIAL – WAITING ROOM – LATER

Link sits where we left him.

Bailey is beside him. Present. Alert.

Dr. Kasliwal, pediatric attending, approaches with a NICU nurse.
They slow when they see Link — folded in on himself, barely upright, like gravity has increased around him.

Bailey stands immediately. Instinct.
She understands the second she sees them.

BAILEY
This is Dr. Lincoln.

Dr. Kasliwal nods, gentle but efficient.

DR. KASLIWAL
Dr. Lincoln. I’m from Pediatrics.
I wanted to update you.

Link looks up too fast. Pushes himself to his feet, unsteady — like standing might pull the answers closer.

DR. KASLIWAL (CONT’D)
Your twins were delivered.

The words don’t land.

Link stares at her. 
Too still.
Like his body forgot how to react.

LINK
(delayed, disoriented)
They’re…?

DR. KASLIWAL
They were delivered just in time.

The words hit him hard — not relief.
Impact.

Link swallows, throat tight.

LINK
(too fast, almost afraid of the answer)
Are they okay?

DR. KASLIWAL
They were intubated.
They’re stable for now.
They’re in the NICU.

Stable.
For now.

Link nods automatically, like he understands the language — but his breathing has gone shallow, uneven.
Too much information. Too fast.

LINK
(overwhelmed, grasping)
Okay.

A beat.

And then — like a delayed aftershock —

LINK (CONT’D)
What about my wife?

Dr. Kasliwal hesitates. 
Just a second.

It’s enough. 

Link sees it immediately.

LINK (CONT’D)
(quiet, tight)
Tell me how my wife is. 

DR. KASLIWAL
Your wife went into cardiac arrest.

Silence.

The words feel unreal. Like it makes no sense at all. 

DR. KASLIWAL (CONT’D)
They were able to resuscitate her and place the pump.
They’re still with her now.

A pause.

DR. KASLIWAL (CONT’D)
She’s holding on. 

Link’s shoulders drop.
Not relief.
Just weight.

His body reacts before his mind can decide how.
Relief and terror hit him at the same time.
His body doesn’t know which one to answer.

LINK
(desperate)
I need to see her. 

DR. KASLIWAL
Not yet. She’s still in the OR.
They’ll come update you as soon as they can.

The room seems to tilt slightly.

Bailey steps closer. Not touching.
Just anchoring the space.
Helping him process what his next move should be. 

She steps in.

BAILEY
Can he see his daughters?

Dr. Kasliwal nods.

DR. KASLIWAL
Of course.
That’s what I came for.

The words hang there.
An opening
A next step.

Link doesn’t move.

He looks down at the floor, jaw tight, eyes glassy.

LINK
(quiet, fractured)
I don’t know—

He stops, unsettled by his own voice.

LINK (CONT’D)
They’re going to come for me.

A beat.

LINK (CONT’D)
I can’t leave.
Not before knowing she’s okay.

This isn’t reluctance.
This is paralysis.

Bailey holds his gaze now.

BAILEY (CONT’D)
Jo would want you to see them.

That lands.

Not choice.
Sequence.

LINK
If I go…
If something happens—

He can’t finish.
The thought is too big. Too terrifying.

BAILEY
I’ll come get you.

Not a promise of safety.
A promise of presence.

Link closes his eyes.
Opens them again.

Red. Glassy.
Like something inside him has switched to autopilot.

LINK
…Okay.

Acceptance.

Bailey nods once — like she’s been waiting for him to get there.

BAILEY
I’ll stay here.
I won’t leave.

Link finally looks at her.

LINK
(raw)
Thank you.

Barely audible.

Dr. Kasliwal gestures toward the hallway.

DR. KASLIWAL
We’ll take you now.

Link takes a step.

Stops.

Turns back to Bailey.

LINK
(under his breath)
Call me the minute she’s out.

Bailey nods. Soft. Certain.

They move.

FADE OUT.