INT. ICU ROOM — MORNING

Morning light barely reaches the bed.

Jo sleeps. 
Deep. Heavy.
Unmoved by time.

Monitors hum steadily.

Link rests in the chair next to her. 
A nurse adjusts an IV, checks vitals, then moves on.

Jo doesn’t stir.
The day begins without her.

After a moment, Link notices Ndugu in the hallway.

He rises quietly and steps out of the room, pulling the door almost closed behind him.

INT. ICU HALLWAY — CONTINUOUS

Ndugu stands a few feet away, chart in hand.
Link joins him. 

NDUGU
Everything okay in there?

LINK
You tell me…
(a beat)
She’s been out most of the morning.

A small exhale.

LINK (CONT’D)
…me too, honestly.

Ndugu nods.

NDUGU
Good.
(a beat)
You both needed it.
 
Silence settles.

Link exhales, just slightly.

LINK
Any updates?

Ndugu glances at the chart.
Then back at him.

NDUGU
We’ll reassess this afternoon.
(a beat)
But her echo this morning already looks better.

Link nods.
He gets it, but he needs more.

LINK
Better how?

Ndugu shifts and refines the explanation. 

NDUGU
The pressures inside the left ventricle are lower.
It’s not overfilling the way it was.

Link listens, focused.

NDUGU (CONT’D)
We’re seeing a bit more movement in her EF now.

That lands.
Now it’s concrete.
Link exhales.
Deeper.

He glances back toward Jo’s door.

LINK
So the device is finally doing what it’s supposed to.

NDUGU
Exactly.
(a beat)
The CP stabilized her, 
kept her from getting worse…
but it wasn’t unloading the heart enough.

A small shift. More precise now.

NDUGU (CONT’D)
The 5.5 takes more of that pressure off.
Gives the muscle a real chance to recover.

Silence.
That sinks in.

NDUGU (CONT’D)
She still has a long road ahead. 
(a beat)
But this is encouraging.

Link absorbs it.
Doesn’t react immediately.

His eyes flick back to Jo’s door.

Then a breath he didn't know he was holding.

His shoulders drop.
Barely.

Relief.
Careful. Controlled.

NDUGU (CONT’D)
From here, progress should be gradual.
We’ll keep reassessing.

Link nods once, taking that in. 

LINK
Thank you.

NDUGU
Today is about rest. 
No pushing. No rushing.

Ndugu nods, taps his arm, and moves on down the hall.

Link stays there for a second longer, letting it settle.

He looks at the door.
Steadies himself.
Then goes back in.

INT. ICU ROOM — CONTINUOUS

Jo is still sleeping.
Unaware of the morning.
Unaware of the shift.

Link slips back inside and takes his place at her side.

Same chair.
Same hand.
Different weight now.

He watches her breathe.
Steady.

FADE OUT.