The little girl's question lingered in the air.
"...Is it safe to hope now?"
For a long moment, Ayan couldn't answer.
Not because he didn't know what to say.
Because he understood that careless words could become broken promises.
The Bridge had taught him many things.
Never promise what you cannot protect.
Never offer certainty where none exists.
Instead, offer truth.
He met the girl's frightened eyes.
"I don't know if everything will be alright."
Her shoulders lowered slightly.
It wasn't the answer she had wanted.
"But..."
Ayan continued gently.
"...I know you don't have to face it alone anymore."
The girl remained silent.
Behind her, the younger boy peeked around the edge of the door. He couldn't have been older than five. His cheeks were thin, and he held a ragged cloth rabbit whose ears had almost completely fallen off.
He stared at the bread Ayan had placed beside the bowl.
Then quickly looked away.
As though he had taught himself not to hope for food that wasn't his.
Ayan noticed.
"So..."
he asked softly,
"what are your names?"
The girl hesitated.
"...Lina."
The name caught Ayan's attention.
Another Lina.
Different from the girl in Briar Hollow.
The little boy answered before his sister could stop him.
"I'm Theo."
His small voice was barely louder than the rustling leaves.
"Lina..."
Ayan smiled kindly.
"...and Theo."
He deliberately repeated their names.
The old doctor's lesson echoed in his mind.
People should hear their own names before they hear their fears.
Lina slowly opened the door a little wider.
The cottage behind her was dark.
Not because the sun had disappeared.
Because every window had been covered with blankets.
Only a single candle burned inside.
The room was surprisingly clean.
The furniture was old but carefully maintained.
A table.
Two chairs.
A fireplace that had gone cold.
Everything suggested that someone had once cared deeply for this home.
"What happened?"
Ayan asked quietly.
Lina lowered her eyes.
"Mother got sick."
"And Father..."
She stopped.
Theo squeezed her hand tightly.
"He went to get medicine."
The little boy answered instead.
"He said he'd come back."
Ayan remained silent.
"When did he leave?"
Theo looked at his fingers.
"I don't know."
Lina answered.
"Six days ago."
Doctor Rowan had said the quarantine began five days earlier.
That meant...
Their father had left just before the roads were sealed.
"He never came back."
Lina whispered.
"We waited."
"Then everyone started getting sick."
She looked toward the covered windows.
"The soldiers told everyone to stay inside."
"So we did."
"Every day."
"We thought..."
Her voice trembled.
"...if we opened the door..."
"...the sickness would come inside."
Ayan slowly understood.
These children hadn't been abandoned.
They had trapped themselves trying to survive.
"Who leaves the bowl of water outside?"
"I do."
Lina answered.
"Every morning."
"Why?"
She looked embarrassed.
"In case Father comes home while we're asleep."
Silence filled the little cottage.
Theo quietly picked up the piece of bread Ayan had left outside.
He looked toward his sister.
"Can we?"
Lina hesitated.
Then nodded.
Theo carefully broke the bread exactly in half.
He handed the larger piece to his sister.
Only after she accepted it did he begin eating his own.
Ayan watched quietly.
Even hungry...
The little boy had shared first.
The Bridge pulsed warmly.
Kindness often survived where comfort did not.
Just then, footsteps hurried toward the cottage.
Doctor Rowan appeared outside, followed closely by Maren.
The old doctor immediately understood the situation.
His expression softened.
"So..."
he said gently,
"these are the two children no one had seen."
Lina instinctively stepped in front of Theo.
Protecting him.
Doctor Rowan knelt so his eyes were level with hers.
"My name is Rowan."
"I'm a doctor."
"I'm not here to take your home."
"I'm here to make sure you don't lose anyone else."
The girl's eyes filled with tears.
"You..."
She struggled to speak.
"...you're really staying?"
"Yes."
"You won't leave tonight?"
"No."
She finally broke.
Six days of fear.
Six days of pretending to be brave.
Six days of acting like an adult.
They all came crashing down at once.
She threw herself into Doctor Rowan's arms and began sobbing uncontrollably.
"I was so scared..."
she cried.
"I didn't know what to do."
"I didn't know if Theo was getting sick."
"I didn't know if Mother would wake up."
Ayan's heart skipped.
"Mother?"
Doctor Rowan looked toward the back room.
"She's here?"
Lina nodded through her tears.
"We couldn't wake her."
Without another word, the old doctor hurried into the small bedroom.
Maren followed immediately.
Ayan stayed with Theo.
The little boy had stopped eating.
He stared toward the bedroom with frightened eyes.
"Will Mama die?"
Children always asked the hardest questions.
Ayan looked at him.
"I don't know."
Theo lowered his head.
Then Ayan added,
"But Doctor Rowan is doing everything he can."
Theo nodded quietly.
For him...
That was enough.
Several tense minutes passed.
Finally, Doctor Rowan emerged.
His face looked tired.
But hopeful.
"She's alive."
Lina gasped with relief.
"The fever is high."
He accepted a bottle of medicine from Maren.
"But we found her in time."
The girl covered her face as tears of relief streamed through her fingers.
"I thought..."
"I thought she was already..."
Doctor Rowan gently shook his head.
"No."
"She's still fighting."
He looked at Ayan.
"Help me move her into the front room."
"The air is better there."
Together, they carefully carried the unconscious woman onto a bed near the window.
Maren opened the shutters for the first time in nearly a week.
Fresh afternoon sunlight poured into the room.
Dust sparkled through the golden beams.
Theo stared at the light with wide eyes.
"I forgot..."
he whispered.
"...our house could be this bright."
Ayan looked around the room.
The darkness hadn't only come from illness.
It had come from fear.
Fear had closed every curtain.
Fear had locked every door.
Fear had convinced two children that hiding was the only way to survive.
Now...
Sunlight had entered again.
Outside, the lantern hanging from the empty iron hook beside the doorway suddenly caught Ayan's attention.
It wasn't missing.
It lay broken beneath a nearby bush, half-hidden by weeds.
The glass had shattered.
The frame was bent.
Someone had tried to repair it once, then given up.
Ayan quietly walked outside and picked it up.
The bronze was cold in his hands.
Broken.
But not beyond saving.
The Bridge pulsed once.
Then the silver notebook appeared.
Only one sentence was written across the open page.
**Some lights are not extinguished.**
A second line slowly formed beneath it.
**They are simply waiting for someone to mend the lantern.**
Ayan closed the notebook and looked down at the damaged lantern.
For the first time since arriving in Red Hollow, he realized that healing this village would require more than medicine.
Some wounds lived in the body.
Others...
Lived in the heart.