The room is white. The bed is thin. Something about the lights hums.

There's a uniform on the end of the bed. Gray pants. Gray shirt. A number stitched over the left chest.

456.

And on the wall, a countdown, on a screen embedded in white plastic. Red digits, moving down.

01:58:44

Through the wall, someone is already crying. A man's voice, low, muffled, breaking.