The dawn sun was pale as it filtered through the private clinic's windows, casting long, cool shadows across the examination room. Zora Su lay on the gurney, her white hospital gown stark against the pale blue sheets. Tubes and monitors hummed softly, measuring every heartbeat, every shallow breath. Dr. Lin Yuan stood at her side, carefully adjusting the IV line feeding antibiotics into her veins.
Sebastian Qiao hovered just outside the curtained partition, coat collar turned up against an invisible chill. His expression was taut—equal parts concern and guilt. He stared at the floor when Lin caught his eye. At last, he cleared his throat and entered.
Zora's eyelids fluttered open. Her scarred throat quivered as she tried to speak, but only a rasp emerged. Sebastian's gaze flicked to her
