Morning arrived in fragments.
Not with sunlight-- Artemis didn't allow anything that uncontrolled into its lower wings-- but through subtle shifts in routine. The hum of the building changed. Footsteps grew more frequent. Voices returned, quieter but sharper, as if everyone knew something had shifted overnight.
Down in the infirmary, however, the air felt different.
Not calm, not safe.
But… steadier.
Galathea stood beside Tansy's cot, her hand still wrapped loosely around the girl's.
She hadn't left Tansy's side since she gained strength to walk on her own.
It weighed on her mind. the ritual, the white space, the way the world had tried to pull her somewhere she hadn't chosen.
Cael stood just behind her.
Close enough to reach.
Far enough to give her space.
Neither of them had spoken much since returning.
Words felt unnecessary... or insufficient.
"Vitals are stabilizing," Dr. Ibarra said quietly.
Galathea didn't look away from Tansy. "Define stabilizing."
