Chapter 200 Praying For A Miracle

• The room was dimly lit, the flickering flames from the fireplace casting long shadows on the walls. The air was thick with tension, a silence so heavy it pressed down on everyone present.
• Logan lay on the bed, his once formidable frame now gaunt and lifeless. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, his eyes closed as if in a deep, troubled sleep. Crystal stood beside him, her face a mask of controlled fear, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she reached out to touch his hand. It was cold, unnaturally so, and the chill sent a shiver up her spine.
• Blake was by the window, his arms crossed, staring out into the dark night. His usually confident demeanor was shattered, replaced by an expression of frustration and helplessness. The Pack Doctor, a man in his late fifties with graying hair and deep-set eyes, stood at the foot of the bed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he reviewed his findings one last time.