Bella's POV
"How are they doing?" Hugo's voice carried across the terrace as I stepped outside.
I had just emerged from checking on the children, and exhaustion weighed heavily on my shoulders.
"Finally sleeping," I answered, my voice strained with fatigue.
The image of other mothers dealing with this mysterious illness haunted me. How many were out there right now, watching their children suffer with no idea where to turn for help?
"We're going to find answers. I promise you that," Hugo said, though I could hear the uncertainty beneath his reassuring words.
"Are we though?" The question escaped before I could stop it, tears threatening to spill over. "It's been days of the same routine. We interview these kids, force them to relive their nightmares, and then what exactly? Watching my daughter in that state nearly stopped my heart."
