Jasmine stood quietly at the doorway.
No one could even utter a single damn word.
Her figure looked so small beneath the soft blue chemise, her pale legs barely steady beneath her.
The wrapped towel lay cradled in her arms, as if she were protecting something fragile and sacred.
Her eyes weren't red from crying anymore—just glassy, tired. Haunted.
Soulless and empty.
The hallway fell silent.
Fiona's mouth parted slightly, eyes widening as she took a slow step forward, but Jasmine didn't move.
She just looked at them, gaze flitting from Erik to Nanny Nia, then finally settling on Fiona.
"I heard voices," she said softly, her voice still hoarse, broken like something unused for too long. "And I thought maybe…"
Her words faded off. No one dared finish the sentence.
Nanny Nia immediately rushed toward her. "You shouldn't be standing…come, let me take her-"
"No." Jasmine shook her head faintly, stopping Nanny Nia right in her tracks.. "She's mine. She stays with me."
