POV: Julian St. Clair.
The light had shifted. A golden glow now spilled through the slats of the blinds, casting long shadows across the floor.
Julian sat propped up in bed, pale but alert, a blanket draped across his lap. Machines still hummed quietly around him, but the worst had passed.
**The worst.**
There was a soft knock at the door.
He looked up.
**Ember** stepped in, hesitant, a paper cup in one hand and tiredness behind her eyes. She looked unsure whether she was supposed to be there.
**EMBER**
“I brought you broth. Augustus said you’d be too weak for solid food.”
Julian gave a faint, dry smile.
**JULIAN**
“Can’t remember the last time someone brought me soup without trying to poison me.”
That got the smallest twitch of a smile from her too.
She stepped forward, s
