The door to Serena's room shut with a soft hospital click that still felt like a slap.
Serena sat up on the edge of the bed, cardigan folded over her knees, gauze fresh on her forehead. Her eyes were wet in a way that asked to be seen. “You're back," she said, voice small.
“I am," Anderson said. He didn't take the chair. He stayed standing like the floor might tilt if he sat.
“How is she?" Serena asked. “Laurel's… mother."
He rubbed two fingers along his jaw and made his voice even. “Gone."
Serena flinched and reached toward him, then drew her hand back, careful. “I'm sorry."
He nodded once. The words he wanted were too large to fit. He swallowed pieces. “Dr. Chen says your mother stabilized after the second dose. She's sleeping."
Serena's shoulders loosened with relief that felt un
