The hospital felt different.
The sharp scent of antiseptic remained, but the coldness had shifted. Paper butterflies now fluttered gently on the walls. A candle flickered beside Sarah's bed, lit by Ada and approved—quietly—by the night nurse.
Sarah still hadn't woken.
But something had changed.
Her heartbeat was no longer erratic.
Her breathing, though assisted, was rhythmic.
And most of all, she wasn't alone.
**
Thomas arrived just after sunrise.
He came without assistants, without his briefcase.
Just him.
He walked into Sarah's room and placed a small box on her nightstand.
Inside: a handwritten letter, his wedding band, and a folded check.
“I'm dismantling my holdings," he said softly. “Luxury homes. Unused land. Art I barely glanced at. I'm selling it all and building some
