The sterile scent of disinfectant hung heavy in the air, and Viviane sat motionless on the hospital bed, her eyes glazed as she flipped through a jewelry design book.
The pain from that day seemed to follow her like a shadow, unrelenting, as if it hadn't even begun to heal.
Outside the window, sunlight poured through the glass, casting a pale glow over her thin, drawn face, but it offered no warmth.
Mirea sat at her side, slicing an apple quietly, though her eyes couldn't help but linger on the dark, purplish bruises still marking Viviane's arm. Her heart ached for her friend.
"You don't need to worry about anything right now," Mirea said softly, her voice comforting. "Just focus on healing."
Viviane tried to smile, but the effort only made her expression look more pained than if she'd been cry……
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