The morning light was softer now, spilling in pale gold across Alliah’s hospital room. It filtered through thin curtains, painting her sheets with a gentle promise of warmth. She lay awake before dawn, listening to the rhythm of her breath and the slow hum of the machines beside her.
Weeks of treatment had taught her to notice the smallest shifts—the way her body felt lighter after a night without pain, or how her strength lingered a little longer each day. But this morning felt different. There was a subtle tension in her bones, a knowing that something was about to change.
The nurses arrived with quiet efficiency, checking vitals, adjusting medications. Among them was Nurse Mariel, who had become a familiar presence. She smiled gently at Alliah. “Today is an important day. Dr. Pacheco
