Bea stood beside Kafziel’s hospital bed, holding a small plastic spoon up to his mouth. “Here, say ahh,” she said, her tone light but practiced, like she had done this a thousand times before.
Kafziel sighed quietly but complied, opening his mouth as he took a careful bite of the bland hospital food. The taste clearly didn’t impress him; his face twisted slightly as he chewed. God, this tastes like cardboard, he thought, but he swallowed anyway.
Aniela watched from a short distance away, arms folded tightly across her chest. She felt oddly out of place, like she was intruding on something she wasn’t meant to witness. She looks comfortable here, Aniela thought. Like she belongs.
“Are you staying here, Bea?” Kafziel asked after swallowing, his voice still hoarse but steadier than before.
