Zyron's Pov
Savannah had her breathing slowed down to a serene tone, and we could see her chest gently rising and falling with the pillows. She seemed tranquil for the first time in several days, almost like a beautiful but delicate porcelain figurine that had been cautiously taken out of the glass display. I rubbed the blanket off her shoulders, instinctively looked at her once more, and then quietly made my exit from her bedside.
The silence in the room was only broken by the ticking of the old clock on her wall. My hand on the doorknob, I gently closed the door only a crack of light entered the hallway.
When I were turning around, I were scared to death. Nana Adora, the long-time family housekeeper, was standing there with her hands folded calmly in front of her. Her eyes—loving, but cold as ice to deception—were fixed on me.
"Oh, son," she murmured, "is she asleep already?"
