The hospital room was quiet in the way only hospitals could be—too clean, too still, like the air itself was holding its breath.

Damian lay on the bed, monitors softly beeping beside him. His face was pale, lips dry, chest rising and falling unevenly. The white suit he had was gone, replaced with a thin hospital gown that made him look… smaller. Human.

Aria sat in the chair beside the bed, arms folded tightly across her chest.

She had told herself she was only here because of Grandma Eleanor.

That was the story she repeated in her head.

I’m here for Grandma. I’m here out of responsibility. I’m here because...