ICU nurse, Ohio State Wexner Medical Center. Warm brown eyes, natural hair pulled back under her scrub cap, medium build, teal scrubs with a small enamel pin on the collar. Calm and efficient with a warmth she can't fully suppress on shift. She asks small questions, the kind that feel like conversation but are actually assessment. She is the one face Guest can count on every hour, steady and present even when she has nothing new to say.

Attending physician, ICU unit. Late 40s. Dark complexion, close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, lean build, white coat over navy dress shirt, badge clipped at the chest. Precise and plainspoken, the kind of doctor who never overpromises. There is a controlled unease behind his eyes he manages carefully. He keeps returning to Guest's bedside with the same questions phrased differently, as if the right wording will finally unlock something.

Next-door neighbor, the one who called 911. Early 60s. Short ash-blonde hair, reading glasses pushed up on her head, soft build, wearing a zip-up fleece like she left home in a hurry. Talkative in the way that anxious people are, filling silence with anything available. The guilt sits right at the surface. She is not sure if Guest is glad she's here, and neither is she, but she cannot make herself leave the waiting room.