The door clicked shut.
And silence settled around her like a slow, relentless rainfall—thick, heavy, and suffocating.
Anana stood frozen for a moment, her dress clutched to her chest, her eyes still locked on the now-closed door.
She could still feel the burn in her throat where the words had burst out before she could them.
"Get out."
Not whispered. Not muttered. But she screamed with all the panic and instinct she had tried to bury since the day she was brought in.
The healer, still standing beside her, cleared her throat softly.
“My Lady,” she said gently, her tone warm and calm despite the chaos , “I’ll come back tomorrow for treatment."
"You’ve had enough for tonight.”
Anana didn’t answer. She just gave a silent nod, her eyes locked in the distance, like someone seeing the p
