It was late morning, and the sky above the Drake family mansion was clear. Warm sunlight streamed through the large windows of Elena's hospital room. The sound of medical equipment ticked softly but steadily, like a breath that continued even though her soul had not yet returned.

Nathan sat by Elena's bedside as usual. He held Elena's still-pale hand tightly in his. Nathan gently stroked Elena’s fingers, hoping for even the slightest movement, no matter how small.

The door was knocked softly.

“Come in,” Nathan said without turning his head.

Damian entered cautiously. He carried a black folder in his hand, and his face looked calmer than in the previous...