The drive home felt wrong.Too quiet.Too normal.Rain tapped softly against the windows of the car while the city blurred past outside in gray streaks.Beside me, Elara sat curled carefully beneath a blanket despite the warmth inside the vehicle.One hand rested unconsciously over her stomach again.A habit she still hadn’t broken.Every time I noticed it—Something inside me cracked all over again.I kept watching her.Constantly.Too constantly.“You’re staring,” she murmured weakly without opening her eyes.“I know.”“You’ve checked if I’m breathing at least six times.”“Seven.”That finally earned the faintest tired smile from her.Progress.Tiny, fragile progress.The doctors discharged her this morning with enough medication and instructions to overwhelm an entire medical team.No stress.No overexertion.Careful monitoring.Immediate reporting of chest pain or dizziness.Every warning sentence carved fresh fear into me.Because now I understood how quickly life could collapse.
続きを読む