Amaya’s POV
According to the doctor, I had a panic attack. My body had gone into shock from the stress, making it even harder to breathe. He managed to stabilize me, but I was still weak, drained from everything that had just happened.
It was never life-threatening, but Dante didn’t take it that way.
Lying in bed, I could hear Dante repeatedly scolding Suri for overwhelming me with too much information while she pleaded desperately.
I felt bad for her, but in my state, I could do nothing.
From that day on, Suri was forbidden to see me, which made me quite sad—especially since Dante was always around me like a guard dog.
He spoke less and became even more protective.
A week later, I was discharged, and he took me back to the packhouse himself, barely letting me walk on my own.
I protested, but it all fell on deaf ears, so I stopped and just did whatever he said.
And when we arrived, I was practically imprisoned in my room all over again.
As the days passed, I started
