The hospital room was colder than usual that morning, though the air-conditioning had not changed. It was the silence that made it feel this way, as if even the walls were waiting for something to be spoken, or perhaps waiting for a verdict none of them wanted to hear. Alliah sat quietly on the bed, her back propped against the pillows Jamiro had fussed with earlier. Her hands rested lightly on the blanket covering her legs, though he noticed the faint tremble she tried to hide.
Jamiro sat beside her, his hand clasping hers, thumb stroking the fragile skin gently. Across the room, Apple leaned against the wall, arms folded, her expression a mask of distance. Joshua sat near the window, knees drawn up, trying to pretend he was absorbed in the view of the garden below. But Jamiro knew both
