Zayn pushed the door open quietly.
The room was dim, warm, and still. A soft lamp glowed in the corner. Lily was curled up on the bed, wrapped in layers of blankets. Her skin wasn’t flushed anymore. The fever had finally broken, but her face looked pale and drawn.
Talia sat beside the bed, checking Lily’s pulse while Martha stood nearby with her arms crossed.
“She’s stable now,” Talia said, glancing up when she noticed Zayn entering. “Fever’s down. But she’s still weak. She needs rest, fluids, and someone to stay with her.”
“I’ll take over,” Zayn said.
Martha raised a brow. “You sure?”
“I said I’ll stay.”
Talia gave him a long look, then slowly nodded. “Alright. But call if anything changes.”
“We’ll be nearby,” Martha added, though her tone was laced with reluctance.
They both walked out quietly, shutting the door behind them.
