ELARA'S POV
Maya won't leave her room.
Elara stands outside the closed door, listening to the silence beyond it. Three days since Dubai. Three days of Maya barely eating, barely speaking, barely existing.
The therapist says it's normal. That Maya needs time to adjust, to feel safe, to begin processing three years of trauma. That pushing will only make things worse.
But watching her sister disappear into herself is killing Elara slowly.
She knocks softly. "Maya? Can I come in?"
Silence. Then, finally: "Okay."
Elara opens the door to find Maya sitting on the bed in the same position as yesterday. As the day before. Knees drawn up, staring at nothing.
"I brought lunch." Elara sets down a tray—soup, bread, fruit. Things Maya used to love. "You should eat something."
"Not hungry."
"Yo
