The morning began not with sunlight but with the sterile glow of fluorescent lights and the muted shuffle of nurses preparing for another day of endless procedures. Alliah lay propped against the thin hospital pillows, her breathing steady but shallow, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. She had made her choice the night before—despite the risk, she wanted to move forward with the experimental therapy. For her, it was not a gamble but a declaration: I refuse to surrender.
The weight of that choice, however, fell heavily on those around her.
Jamiro sat at her bedside, his hand wrapped protectively around hers. His eyes bore the lines of sleepless nights, yet within them burned a fierce determination. He had promised himself he would never let her feel alone. If she chose to walk into fire, the
