Lyra's POV
The infirmary doors swung open under my hands, their hinges releasing a low creak that echoed through the silent corridor behind me.
I stepped into a sterile world of harsh fluorescent lighting and the steady rhythm of medical equipment. Monitors beeped in endless cycles while a ventilator wheezed with mechanical precision, forcing breath into lungs that had forgotten how to work on their own.
Kaelen occupied the chair beside his mother's bed, his broad frame folded inward like he was trying to disappear. His forearms rested against his thighs, hands dangling between his knees in a picture of complete defeat. When our eyes met, something shifted in his expression. Surprise flickered there, followed by exhaustion so profound it seemed carved into his bones.
