After my training session with my brother, I found myself walking toward Dominic’s room again.
It was already late at night, and the hallway was dim and silent, only the sound of my footsteps echoing quietly against the wooden floors.
When I reached his door, I paused, took a breath, and knocked gently.
“Come in,” I heard him say from the inside, his voice deep and steady.
I slowly pushed the door open and stepped in, carrying a tray of food I had prepared for him. I didn’t say a word as I entered. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and warmth.
I kept my eyes on the floor, but I could feel his gaze following my every move. It was intense, almost burning.
I walked over to the side of his bed and carefully set the tray down on the table next to it. As I turned to leave, ready to
