The soft warmth of the morning sun seeped through the tall, arched window, spilling golden light across the chamber. Dust motes drifted lazily in the air, glowing like tiny sparks. Dila stirred, her eyelashes fluttering as she slowly opened her eyes. For a moment, she lay still, listening to the faint rustle of curtains swaying against the breeze and the quiet rhythm of someone's breathing nearby.
Her gaze shifted, and she found Fran curled up on the chair beside her bed. The girl's head had tilted to the side, her arms hugging her knees, her ears twitching slightly even in her sleep. Her face was peaceful, framed by her long navy-blue hair, though faint traces of exhaustion lingered around her eyes. Dila watched her for a moment, a strange ache softening in her chest.
