The room remained heavy with silence after Marissa came back. Derek sat on the edge of the bed, his head hanging low. He had managed to pull on a pair of loose trousers, but his chest remained bare, exposing the map of violence written on his skin. Each breath he took was shallow, a cautious movement to avoid the stabbing pain in his ribs and back.
Marissa stood by the window, her eyes fixed on the door, her own palm stinged. She was terrified, but she forced her expression to remain calm. She had to be the anchor for both of them.
A soft, hurried knock broke the silence.
"Come in," Marissa said, her voice steady.
The door pushed open, and Lily entered. She was carrying a large laundry basket piled high with the supplies Marissa had requested. In her other hand, she carried a can of water. The young maid kept her eyes down, focused on her feet to ensure she didn't trip over the heavy load. She walked straight to the wooden table near the hearth.
