The afternoon air wrapped the small clinic in a silence that felt suffocating.

Evalina lay motionless on the bed. Her body weak, her mind overwhelmed, and her heart battered by a storm that refused to calm.

Hunter Jackson stood at the doorway, holding a bag of warm food. In his hands was a small box containing Evalina’s favorite chicken porridge, along with ginger tea and sweet bread from her favorite bakery.

Carefully, he opened the door and stepped inside.

“Evalina… I brought you something to eat. You haven’t had anything since last night,” he said softly.

Evalina slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze landed first on the bag in Hunter’s...