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The bedroom smelled faintly of lavender, a lingering trace of Nina’s favorite lotion, but now it mixed with the sour tang of stale air. The once-cozy room, with its soft curtains and warm beige walls, felt stifling, heavy with a silence that no six-year-old could understand.
Primily sat cross-legged on the bed, her small frame dwarfed by the large mattress. The teddy bear she clutched to her chest was missing an eye, and its fur had worn thin in patches. She turned her head to look at her mother, who lay on her back, eyes closed, her face pale and unnaturally still.
“Mummy,” Primily said softly, scooting closer. She tugged gently at her mother’s arm, her tiny fingers barely encircling it. The skin was cold. She frowned. “Mummy, wake up. I’m hungry.”
She waited. Her words usually wo
