The door swings open, and the nurse from earlier strides in, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the sight of Mickey, now fully conscious.
“You should have told me he was awake,” she scolds, barely sparing Ziana a glance before rushing to Mickey’s side. She checks his temperature, then carefully inspects his wound, ensuring the stitches haven’t torn.
“He just woke up,” Ziana replies, forcing a casual tone, though relief washes over her that it’s only the nurse and not someone higher up demanding explanations.
The nurse shakes her head disapprovingly. “Like I said earlier, he needs rest. No unnecessary stress.” She turns to Mickey, already preparing a syringe. “I’m going to administer a sedative. It’ll help you heal properly.”
Mickey groans, his dark eyes locking onto Ziana’s, si
