SOPHIA’S POV
A few days later, I decided to visit Isabella in the hospital again.
She was awake when I stepped in.
“Hey,” I said, dropping the basket I brought along on the bedside table. “How are you feeling?”
Isabella looked up from the bed, her face pale but her eyes sharper than before. The bandage on her shoulder peeked out from under the hospital gown.
“Tired,” she said softly. “But alive. That’s something.”
I smiled faintly, moving closer. “That’s everything.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The room smelled faintly of disinfectant and flowers. A small TV played muted news in the corner, but the silence between us felt louder.
She glanced at the basket. “What’s all that?”
“Fruits, pastries, tea, and a few magazines,” I said. “And… something for when you get discharg
