After what felt like an eternity, they finally wheeled Seraphine into a hospital ward. Valessia followed close behind, her footsteps heavy, her eyes locked on her daughter's unconscious face.
The ward was dimly lit and sparsely furnished, six occupied beds, pale walls, and a thin curtain that did little to offer privacy. The quiet hum of machines blended with the occasional cough or groan from the other patients.
Valessia sat on the edge of the hospital bed, facing Seraphine. Her daughter's face looked so peaceful, too peaceful and far too still. The image dragged her back to the bakery… to that terrifying moment when Seraphine collapsed, her heart stopping for what felt like a lifetime.
"See? I told you she'd be fine," Virema whispered from the chair beside the bed, glancing at Valessia, who hadn't spoken much since Seraphine had been moved.
