Inside the hospital room, the world felt smaller, quieter, as if the noise of the corridor had been shut out along with the door. The steady hum of medical equipment filled the air, blending with the faint rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor beside the bed. Pale morning light filtered through the half-drawn curtains, washing everything in a muted glow that made the room feel suspended in time.
Zhou Ruyan lay propped up against a stack of pillows, her thin body slightly sunken into the mattress. The nasal oxygen line rested beneath her nose, the clear tube curving gently over her cheeks and disappearing behind her ears. Her chest rose and fell with a faint wheeze, each breath just a little too careful, too measured. Still, her eyes, though ringed with fatigue, were bright as they rested on the young man sitting beside her.
Micah held her hand in both of his.
