The dawn crept into the corners of the room like an intrusive memory—something you try to forget, but it keeps coming back. A faint grey light filtered through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating the unmoving shadows cast on the walls. The world outside had changed, but inside, the silence remained frozen.
Andromeda lay motionless on the bed. The IV dripped into the tube connected to her body in a steady rhythm, like a mechanical heartbeat. Her skin was pale, yet more alive than it had been a few hours ago. Her chest rose and fell slowly—predictably—but after the pain and shock, even that felt surreal. Lucian hadn’t left the room once during the night.
He sat in the armchair, one arm draped over the backrest, the other resting on his thigh, a cigar held loosely between his fingers, un
