Seraphina's POV:
The sound of the gates closing echoed down the corridor.
She remained still as the boy looked at her one last time—hesitant, conflicted, before turning away.
The guard's gaze lingered on her for a second before shifting to the hair tie now sitting neatly in her hair.
His brow tightened slightly, as if wanting to question it, but he only exhaled and walked off.
He wanted to say that it wasn't allowed—that it was against the rules.
But he didn't.
It wasn't something dangerous to give.
And many relatives gave small items to the patients during their visits… sometimes.
The sound of their footsteps faded.
Silence filled the room again.
The room that had just been filled with the boy's voice was now quiet.
Normally, the silence wouldn't have affected her.
She was used to silence. It had been her companion for years.
But right now, it felt… cold.
She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the spot where he had been standing moments ago.
Only a couple of minutes later, she looked away.
Her fingers rose, brushing the hair tie resting against her head, caressing it.
No one had given her anything over all these years—
nothing but medicine, drugs, curses, and beatings.
Not without any hidden agenda.
But he had.
Even though it wasn't something expensive, it had been given with care.
Her brows furrowed faintly.
'Who is he?'
That question repeated in her mind again and again, refusing to leave.
She did feel some familiarity with him, but couldn't exactly pinpoint it.
She tried to recollect anything about him—but couldn't.
Maybe she might've remembered him if she knew his na—
Her thoughts came to a halt.
"Name," she muttered softly.
She had forgotten to ask it.
He had talked to her for almost an hour, and she didn't even know his name.
Her fingers curled slightly on the hair tie.
He talked extensively about everything he did, as if discussing a topic.
Although… he did spend a lot of time talking about his sister.
About her habits.
Her stubbornness.
The way she worried too much.
But when it came to himself…
He didn't talk much.
Was he trying to hide something about himself?
And if he was… why?
The questions piled up, crowding her thoughts.
'Why am I thinking about him so much?' She wondered suddenly.
She closed her eyes for a moment.
It shouldn't matter who he was.
It didn't matter.
So she stopped thinking about him.
Or at least tried to.
***
During lunch, Seraphina went to the cafeteria, not because she wanted to, but because she hadn't eaten breakfast that morning.
And her body needed nutrients.
The moment she walked inside, she felt the gazes on her.
Many of the patients knew her—whether because of her beauty or her background.
Though her background remained unknown to most.
Most of them noticed her because of her posture, the way she held herself.
So it wasn't new for others to stare at her.
Some gazes were filled with lust.
Some with hatred.
And some were dismissive.
She ignored them and joined the line.
The queue wasn't very long, so her turn came after a few minutes.
Just as her turn approached—
"Hey, we were here first."
A rough voice snapped beside her.
Seraphina didn't even turn her head, ignoring the one behind her.
"Oi! I am talking to you!"
A hand struck her back hard—too hard.
Her balance broke, and she stumbled, her elbows hitting the floor, sending a searing pain through her arms.
Snickers rippled through the room.
'It hurts.'
She lifted her head and looked at the one who shoved her.
The woman had a mean-looking face and cruel eyes.
She stared at Seraphina with a grin.
Then came the mockery.
"Oh, how did you fall so easily? I just tapped on your back. Ain't I right?"
She looked at her two friends.
They nodded their heads, sneering.
"It's her fault."
"She's so weak."
"Even the wind can push her over."
They burst into loud laughter.
"So, anyway—"
The woman stopped mid-sentence.
"Huh? Where did she go?" she asked, staring at the empty space in front of her, where Seraphina had been just a second ago.
She looked around.
"Where is she?!"
Some of the people pointed in the direction Seraphina had gone.
Seraphina was already gone—silently picking up her tray and walking toward her usual empty corner.
Laughter erupted—this time directed at the three women.
Their faces flushed red with anger and embarrassment.
They stormed toward her—only to stop abruptly.
A guard blocked their path.
"What do you think you are doing?"
They looked at the guard who came there to stop their charade.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a thick beard framing his stern expression.
His arms were folded behind his back as he stared them down.
"We—we just wanted to talk—"
They tried to offer an excuse, but he didn't listen. He warned them once before sending them away.
Seraphina didn't even look up to see what was happening and just quietly ate her food.
The food was stale and lacked flavor.
No salt, no spices.
She finished half and threw the rest away.
…
While heading back to her room, the three women appeared again—this time waiting for her.
They blocked her path.
"You think you are some hotshot just because of that face, huh?"
"Acting all high and mighty…"
"Come on, sis. Let's teach her some manners."
Seraphina stared at them blankly.
'Annoying.' She thought, sighing inwardly.
Then she stepped to the side, intending to walk past them.
But before she could cross, a hand grabbed her hair and yanked her backward.
Pain shot across her scalp—but she didn't cry out.
She had endured far worse.
The daily beatings from him, from her so-called husband.
The scars that still marked her back, arms, ribs—hidden under her clothes.
She simply raised her hand, reached up, and gently grasped the woman's wrist.
Her expression didn't change.
Her voice was flat.
Quiet.
Emotionless.
"Leave it."