The doctor entered my ward with the same measured calm that always made me uneasy, the kind that suggested he already knew something I didn't and had decided how much of it I was allowed to hear. He flipped through my file briefly, the soft rustle of paper loud in the otherwise still room, then lifted his gaze to me with quiet assessment, as though weighing not just my condition but my stability.
"How is Mrs. Elena Ravenscroft in the other room?" he asked. "Has she stabilized?"
The question tightened something in my chest instantly. I didn't even think about it.
"I need to see her," I said, already pushing myself upright, my body moving ahead of my mind as if it had made the decision long before I consciously did.
His brows drew together slightly. "Mrs. Alyssa, I would strongly advise rest. You fainted earlier. Your body is still under significant stress, and considering your condition—"
