Jasmine sat by the window, her knees drawn to her chest, her chin resting against them as she stared blankly outside.
The light from the afternoon sun spilled across her face, but her eyes did not reflect it. They were hollow, dull, lost somewhere far beyond the courtyard walls.
She hadn't moved for hours.
The room was silent except for the faint rustle of curtains from the breeze slipping through the window.
The once vibrant Jasmine was gone, replaced by someone who seemed to only exist in fragments.
The door creaked open. Marie stepped inside quietly, her footsteps muffled against the rug.
She froze when she saw Nanny Nia standing near the bed, folding a blanket with trembling hands.
The old woman's shoulders slumped as though she carried all the grief herself.
"How is she?" Marie asked gently, not wanting to disturb Jasmine though she suspected Jasmine hadn't even noticed her presence.
