Morning came—soft, golden, and far too quiet.
The Draven residence was never silent at this hour. Usually, Mireya's bright laughter echoed down the hallway or Maxen's hurried footsteps drummed against the floor as he searched for breakfast. But today, none of that mattered.
Because Lea still hadn't woken up.
Hugo sat on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on her pale, still face. He brushed her bangs aside gently, his jaw clenched with a fear he refused to show out loud. The lingering exhaustion from the rift was crushing him too, but nothing compared to the cold dread creeping up his spine.
"Lea… it's morning already," he whispered softly.
She didn't move. Not even a twitch.
Outside the room, Mireya and Maxen clung to Marina like sleepy koalas, their little faces scrunched with worry.
"Sister Lea still sleeping…?"
Mireya tugged Marina's sleeve.
Marina forced a smile, though her eyes were tired. "Yes, sweetheart. She's just resting a bit longer."
