That night, Alina couldn’t sleep. She kept tossing and turning, glancing at the clock every few minutes as if silently praying for morning not to come. She didn’t want to go to the hospital not again. Deep down, she believed the results would be the same, and she was tired of hearing bad news over and over.
With a shaky breath, she sat up in bed. The silence of the night pressed heavily around her. After a moment, she stood and walked slowly to her dressing table, her hands trembling. She reached for a small photo frame sitting beside her perfume bottles, a picture of herself at three years old.
In the photo, she was just a little girl with a bright, carefree smile, her eyes full of innocence and light. For a moment, Alina stared at it, her vision blurring.
Then the memories came rush
