The morning light filtered weakly through the blinds, pale stripes falling across Mariam's bed. Her breathing was shallow but steady, her chest rising with a rhythm that filled the room with something Mina hadn't felt in hours—hope.
Mina sat on the edge of the bed, clutching her sister's hand with both of hers. Her tears hadn't stopped, but now they fell differently—lighter, trembling with relief rather than despair.
"She moved," Mina whispered, her voice shaking. "Adam, did you see? She—she really moved."
Adam, still standing a few feet away, nodded slowly. His heart was still racing from the moment. "I saw."
Mina brushed damp strands of hair from Mariam's forehead, her hands trembling. "She's fighting. She's not leaving me."
Her words cracked, but her smile glowed faintly through the tears.
Adam sank into the chair across from her. He didn't speak immediately. He just watched her, this woman who hours ago had been drowning in hopelessness, now clinging fiercely to the smallest flicker of life. Something about her strength, even in her brokenness, pulled at him in ways he couldn't explain.
When Mina finally tore her eyes from her sister to look at him, she whispered, "I don't know how to thank you."
Adam shook his head. "Don't. I haven't done anything extraordinary."
"You stayed." Her voice was quiet but steady. "You didn't have to, but you stayed. People don't do that for me."
Adam felt something twist in his chest. He wanted to ask why, to understand what kind of life had taught her to expect abandonment. But the look in her eyes warned him that question would cut too deep for now.
Instead, he said, "Then maybe you've been surrounded by the wrong people."
Mina stared at him, lips parting slightly. Then, almost shyly, she dropped her gaze.
Later, when Dr. Hassan came to check on Mariam, Mina rose quickly.
"How is she?" Mina asked, her voice tight.
Hassan examined the monitors, checked Mariam's pulse, then gave a short nod. "She's stabilizing. The medication is responding. It'll take time, but she's out of immediate danger."
Mina nearly collapsed in relief, pressing her forehead to Mariam's hand. "Thank God."
Adam exhaled quietly, tension draining from his shoulders.
Hassan glanced between them, then smirked faintly. "You didn't tell me you brought company who'd turn into a guardian angel."
Adam shrugged. "Don't start."
Mina blinked. "Guardian angel?"
Hassan chuckled. "This man fought me all night until I agreed to start treatment, promising to cover every last expense. If not for him, your sister wouldn't have this chance."
Mina turned, eyes wide, locking on Adam. "You… what?"
Adam shifted uncomfortably under her stare. "It's nothing. Don't make it a big deal."
"Nothing?" Her voice cracked. "Do you know what you've done for me? For us? Adam…" She stopped, words failing.
Her throat tightened as fresh tears slid down. But this time, she didn't look broken. She looked overwhelmed, caught between disbelief and gratitude so heavy it left her speechless.
Adam held her gaze for a moment, then looked away, afraid of the weight in her eyes.
Hours passed. Mina barely left Mariam's side, while Adam slipped out to grab food. When he returned, he found her dozing lightly in the chair again.
"Eat something," he said, setting down a small bag.
Her eyes fluttered open. She blinked at him, confused. "You… you brought food?"
He shrugged. "You won't be any use to her if you collapse. Eat."
She stared at him for a long second before finally taking the bag. As she unwrapped the bread inside, her voice softened. "You're too kind."
Adam chuckled under his breath. "Trust me, most people wouldn't call me that."
"Then most people don't see you here," Mina said, biting into the bread.
Adam froze slightly at her words, something unspoken tightening in his chest. He wanted to answer, but his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket.
He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his face hardened.
Mina noticed instantly. "Bad news?"
Adam silenced the phone without answering. His jaw was clenched, the muscles tight.
"It's nothing," he said. But the heaviness in his tone betrayed him.
Mina leaned forward. "You stayed for me. For us. The least I can do is listen. What's wrong?"
Adam hesitated. His instinct screamed to keep his struggles hidden—he barely knew this woman. Yet, staring at her tired but earnest face, something inside him cracked.
"My job," he admitted finally. "Things aren't… stable. And covering your sister's bills may just bury me deeper. But…" His eyes met hers. "I'd still do it again."
Mina's chest tightened at his honesty. She gripped Mariam's hand, then whispered, "You've already given more than you should. I won't let your life fall apart because of us."
Adam shook his head firmly. "Don't worry about me."
But Mina's gaze lingered on him, soft and searching, as though she saw more than he wanted to reveal.
That night, as the hospital quieted and the city's hum softened outside, Adam prepared to leave.
"I'll be back tomorrow," he said, standing by the door.
"You don't have to," Mina whispered.
Adam gave her a faint smile. "I know."
He stepped into the corridor, but before the door closed, Mina's voice stopped him.
"Adam?"
He turned.
Her eyes were shimmering, filled with something fragile but fierce. "Thank you. For not walking away."
The door clicked softly behind him. Adam walked down the corridor, his chest tight, torn between relief and a strange, unshakable pull toward the woman he had just met.
He didn't know it yet, but his life had already veered off course.
And neither he nor Mina would ever be the same again.