(Lyla's Room)
Moira entered quietly; her chest felt tight seeing her sister curled up on the bed, a fragile figure wrapped in a thick blanket. Lyla's hair was unkempt, her usually lively eyes red and swollen from endless crying.
Moira’s heart ached at the sight. Without hesitation, she crossed the room, the soft clink of her slippers the only sound. She sat at the edge of the bed and reached out gently, brushing a strand of Lyla’s hair away from her tear-streaked face.
"Lyla..." Moira’s voice was tender, almost breaking. "I’m here, sweetheart."
Lyla whimpered softly, squeezing her eyes shut as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She buried her face into the pillow, ashamed and broken.
Moira leaned closer, her hand resting on Lyla’s trembling back.
"Talk to me," she murmurs. "Tell me
