The hospital corridor had fallen quiet, save for the soft hum of machines and the occasional footsteps of nurses in white. The cold white light spilled from the ceiling, stark and lifeless, casting shadows that stretched and moved with every passing second.

Ava sat beside Lily’s hospital bed, her hand gently clutching her sister’s small, frail fingers. The soft beeping of the monitors was the only sign of life, a cruel reminder of the fine line Lily was walking between recovery and fragility.

She had been there for hours now, her eyes red and her body aching. She hadn’t eaten. And now it’s 4pm. But she didn’t care. This, being...