Freya kept her eyes closed when the door clicked. Footsteps came in, then out. The nurse, Mara, changed the IV and left a soft note on the board. A while later, Jackson's voice slipped into the room, low and careful. Olivia's whisper followed. The two of them stood near the bed and used the kind of words people pick when they think a sleeping person cannot hear.
Jackson said they should not talk about marriage here. He said it was wrong to plan anything while Freya was like this. Olivia pressed him. Her voice shook. He told her no. After a pause, they spoke about schedules, family calls, and the need to let things rest. Then they left. The door shut with a padded click. The room held still.
Freya opened her eyes. Her body felt heavy from weeks in bed. The bandages itched. The grafts pull
