The soft glow of the sun filtered through the curtains, casting a pale shimmer across the quiet chamber where Cecilia lay resting. At that time, her eyelids fluttered. And after a while, it opened slowly, revealing a vision that was initially blurred and unfocused. As her eyes adjusted, she began to make out the shapes of several people surrounding her bed.
There were four of them.
Fiona sat on the farthest chair, her expression caught between relief and worry.
Robert stood stiffly by the door, his posture rigid as if afraid to breathe too loudly.
Roy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his face unreadable—yet his eyes refused to blink, as if terrified that the girl before him might vanish if he looked away.
And then there was Cedric.
He stood the closest to her.
