Adeline’s POV
The door opened with barely a sound, and I slipped inside the ward. The air was cooler than the stifling corridors outside, carrying the sharp scent of antiseptic beneath the hum of the vent in the wall. A soft square of light stretched across the bed, falling gently over the small figure curled there.
Myra sat curled up, knees tucked beneath her nightgown, a doll clutched tightly in her arms. It wasn’t tattered like most children’s toys. Its hair was dark and neatly tied back with a ribbon, the little dress smoothed as though careful hands had straightened it again and again. I caught myself staring at the face—stitched eyes shining like buttons, a small soft smile. Whoever made it had given it features that felt strangely familiar. Almost… like mine.
Her eyes darted up,
