They came in pairs.Two physicians first, quiet and efficient, coats pressed, expressions carefully neutral. A nurse followed with a tablet and practiced calm. They spoke softly, as if volume itself might fracture something delicate.Lillian sat upright against the headboard by the time they entered. Nathaniel remained beside her, one hand resting on the mattress near her thigh, not touching but close enough to matter.“How are you feeling this morning,” the older doctor asked.Lillian met his eyes. She considered the answer they wanted. Then she chose honesty.“Present,” she said.A flicker of confusion passed over his face before he smoothed it away. “Any dizziness.
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