The hospital room was dim except for the soft glow of the monitor beside the bed. The low hum of machines and the faint antiseptic scent had become a constant backdrop in Raven's life. She sat on the edge of the chair, elbows resting on her knees, eyes fixed on her mother's frail figure beneath the thin blanket.
"Hey, baby… aren't you going to work today?"
Celine's voice broke the quiet, faint but laced with warmth. She shifted as if to sit up, and Raven was instantly at her side.
"Careful," Raven said gently, sliding a hand behind her mother's shoulders to help her ease upright.
Celine let out a soft laugh. "Thank you." Her smile was fragile, yet it still managed to brighten her pale face.
Raven forced a smile in return, though inside her chest there was a knot — of worry, of fear, of the life she'd left behind outside these walls. Sometimes she wondered if her world would ever be more than hospital rooms and endless shifts.
"Raven?" Celine's tone was softer now, but the searching look in her eyes told Raven she wouldn't dodge the question.
"Mm?"
"Work. You've been sitting here all day. Don't you have a shift?"
Raven straightened her back, trying to sound casual. "I took the day off."
Celine raised a thin brow. "Really? Won't that upset your boss?"
Raven looked away, staring at the pattern of sunlight breaking through the blinds. She hated lying, but the truth — that she'd swapped shifts and lost pay to be here — would only make her mother feel guilty.
"No," she said lightly. "He insisted I needed a break. Said he'd noticed how hard I've been working… and I figured I owed myself a day. I haven't seen much of you lately."
Celine's expression softened. "You didn't have to, but I'm glad you did." She reached out as if to pull her daughter into an embrace.
Raven laughed softly and stepped back. "Mom, I'm not a baby anymore."
"But you'll always be my baby," Celine replied with a teasing smile that carried both warmth and regret.
For a moment, there was a comfortable silence — until her mother spoke again, with a spark of mischief in her tone.
"So… what about Caleb?"
Raven groaned and dragged a hand over her face. "He's fine," she muttered.
"You know, he came by the other day. Sat with me for a couple of hours."
Raven's brows rose. "Did he?"
"Mhm. And I think he's really into you."
"Mom…" Her voice had a warning edge, but her mother just chuckled.
"I'm serious. I see the way he looks at you."
Raven shook her head. "Caleb has a girlfriend. It's not like that."
"You can't be so sure."
Raven's patience slipped a little. "Even if he does like me… I doubt I could feel the same."
The playfulness faded from Celine's face. "Why's that? He's a good young man."
Raven hesitated, then spoke, her words sharper than she meant. "Because I'm too busy with all of this for love." Her hand gestured faintly toward the hospital bed, the tubes, the constant weight she carried.
Celine's smile faltered. Her eyes glistened. "Honey… I'm sorry. This is all my fault."
Raven's throat tightened. "Mom… you know I didn't mean it like that. I just mean you're my priority right now. I need you to get better — for both of us."
Celine turned her gaze to the window, voice soft. "I don't want you to waste your youth because of me. I want you to live… fall in love… so you don't look back with regrets."
The lump in Raven's throat grew heavier. For a heartbeat she wanted to cry, but she swallowed the feeling. She reached out and took her mother's thin hand. "Don't say things like that. You know it breaks me when you do." She smiled gently. "I'm doing my best because I love you."
Celine's lips curved into a small, sad smile. "That's not what I meant."
"Maybe not. But it's what I understand." Raven squeezed her hand. "Now, enough about love. What do you want for dinner?"
"Surprise me," Celine said with a soft laugh. For a moment, the room felt lighter again.
Hours later, the sky outside deepened to indigo. The ward was quiet except for the muffled beeping of distant machines and the occasional squeak of rubber soles on polished tile. Raven stepped into the hallway, stretching her stiff shoulders and letting out a slow breath.
She glanced back through the glass at her mother, sleeping peacefully. A fleeting thought crossed her mind — wondering if there would ever be a day when hospitals weren't the center of her world.
Her phone buzzed, shattering the fragile stillness.
She swiped to answer. "Hello?"
"Is this Raven?" A deep, unfamiliar voice asked.
"Yes… who's this?"
"I have a job offer for you."
Raven's brow furrowed as a chill crept down her spine. She stared at the glowing screen, a quiet unease settling over her as the words sank in.
The night breeze was cool against Kamsi's cheeks as she leaned on the balcony railing. The streetlamps below pooled soft gold on the pavement, and the sky was a deep navy sprinkled with shy stars. It was quiet enough that she could hear the faint rustle of leaves in the garden and the distant hum of a car on the main road.
She rested her chin on her arms and sighed. Lately, she'd hardly seen Xavier. For once, the thought left a strange, hollow feeling in her chest that she quickly brushed off. It's not like I miss him,she told herself—only half-convincing.
A faint thump behind her snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned and nearly gasped. Xavier had just landed on her balcony, one hand braced casually on the railing as if he'd done it a hundred times. His black hoodie blended with the shadows, but the grin on his face was unmistakable—wide, devil-may-care, like he'd just broken a rule and enjoyed every second of it.
"Miss me?" he asked, brows arched in mock innocence.
Kamsi rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "You really need to stop jumping over like some action-movie character. What if you fall?"
"Not happening. I've got perfect balance," he replied, straightening and dusting his hands as though to prove it. "Besides, I haven't seen you around much. Thought I'd check if you're still alive."
She laughed quietly. "I could say the same. You've been… I don't know, scarce. Busy plotting world domination?"
"Something like that," he said, his tone deliberately vague. His eyes softened for a moment before he shifted his weight against the railing beside her. "Feels like everyone's caught up in their own drama lately. Gilbert's busy battling that little crush on Miss Michelle Lewis, Alexander's tangled in Patricia's family mess… we hardly ever get to just anchor anymore."
Kamsi gave a small, wry smile. "And there's me with my mom."
His expression softened a little. "Is she still upset?"
Kamsi let out a slow breath. "Well… she acts like I don't exist."
He studied her face for a moment, but didn't push further. Instead, a small half-smile curved his mouth. "Guess we're all juggling something."
For a heartbeat, they just stood there, the shared quiet stretching comfortably between them. Then Kamsi tilted her head slightly toward the glass door. "You want to come in?"
His head tilted in amusement, a spark lighting his eyes. "In there? Are you sure? Isn't your mom home?"
"She's probably asleep," Kamsi replied, crossing her arms and raising a brow. "Don't tell me you're scared."
"Scared? Not at all." He smirked, leaning closer as if to confide a secret. "Just… I'd rather not get my head chopped off by your general-mom. I kind of like having it attached."
Kamsi grinned and tugged at his sleeve. "Good thing I'm made of steel then. Come on."
He let himself be tugged a step forward, his grin widening, but his gaze lingered on her face—playful yet oddly intent. She felt her pulse quicken, that strange flutter she always tried to ignore making a fresh appearance. For a second, they stood almost too close, the air between them charged and quiet. She reached out, meaning only to nudge him inside, but somehow his hand brushed hers.
And then—
The door creaked open.
Both of them froze, like kids caught stealing cookies. A shaft of warm light spilled across the floor from the doorway, and a familiar voice floated in.
"Kamsi? Are you still awake?"