Dahlia's POV
When Diane stirred awake and spotted me sitting in the living room, surprise flickered across her tired features.
"Dahlia, didn't you leave?" Diane asked, her voice still thick with sleep.
I smiled warmly and approached my friend. I reached out to gently ruffle Diane's disheveled hair. "I went to the hospital and came back."
"Is Aunt Selina okay?" The question came out as barely a whisper.
I nodded reassuringly. "Are you hungry? Let's go get something to eat."
Diane rubbed her temples and glanced toward the window, noting how the light had shifted. "Have I been sleeping for a long time?"
"For a while. Not too long."
Diane's head dropped, and she sat in silence for several moments before speaking again. "I feel completely drained."
I guided Diane downstairs to the dining room, my protective instincts on high alert. Despite her obvious hunger, Diane ate with deliberate slowness, each bite measured and careful.
