The soft knock on the door drew Jessica’s attention away from the muted television playing in the corner. She turned her head slowly, her body still heavy with exhaustion. Armando, who had been stationed near the window with his arms crossed, straightened slightly but didn’t move to answer it.
“It’s Sierra and Natasha,” a familiar voice called from outside.
Jessica smiled faintly, grateful for the distraction. “Come in,” she said, her voice hoarse but steady.
The door opened, and Sierra and Natasha stepped inside, their faces lighting up at the sight of Jessica sitting upright in her hospital bed. They each held something in their hands—Sierra a bouquet of bright pink and white lilies, Natasha a box of assorted sweets tied with a pale ribbon.
“Jessica!” Natasha exclaimed, rushi
