Cyrus carefully cleans Lisa's wound as she sits on the edge of her bed, recounting the harrowing events of the day. The room is dimly lit, with a soft glow emanating from a small bedside lamp that casts long shadows on the walls. The air is heavy with a mix of antiseptic and the faint scent of lavender from a nearby diffuser, creating a soothing atmosphere amidst the tension. As Cyrus gently dabs the wound with a cotton swab soaked in disinfectant, Lisa's voice trembles as she describes how she was given explicit instructions on how to deliver the classified files. The room is filled with an aura of secrecy, as if each word spoken carries the weight of the classified information itself.
The sound of the swab against Lisa's skin is the only noise, punctuated occasionally by a deep sigh fr
