Chapter Thirteen: Photos and Fallout

The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beep of the heart monitor and the soft whirring of the ceiling fan above. Sunlight filtered in through the half-closed blinds, casting pale stripes on the white bedsheets. Noah lay in the hospital bed, his body bruised and bandaged, struggling to shift even slightly without wincing from the pain. He looked pale, tired, and thinner than he'd been in weeks. His right leg was in a cast, and his ribs were wrapped tight beneath his hospital gown.

Seated beside him was his mother, with tired eyes and warm hands. She peeled pieces of apple with care and fed them to him, one bite at a time. She didn't speak much, but her presence was soothing and her quiet strength like a warm blanket over his pain.

Noah chewed slowly, his jaw stiff.

"Thanks, Mom," he murmured, his voice rough from the painkillers and lack of sleep.

She gave a small smile, brushing his hair away from his forehead.

"You need to eat to heal, sweetheart."

Before Noah could resp