"Hey, Soll—" She froze mid-sentence, her eyes widening the moment she saw Nickzia standing near my bed.
For a second, everything went still. The faint hum of the hospital monitor became the only sound, syncing with the uneven rhythm of my heart. The air grew heavier, as if the room itself was holding its breath.
The two women locked eyes — confusion, disbelief, and something unspoken passing between them.
I couldn't move. All I could do was watch, caught between their gazes like a secret neither of them could voice.
"What are you doing here?" Eunice finally asked, her voice sharp and trembling at the edges. Her brows knitted together, suspicion glinting in her eyes.
"I just came here for Leil," Zia replied, her voice steady, though the small quiver at the end betrayed her calm.
The tension thickened — I could almost taste it, heavy and metallic in the air, like a storm waiting to break.
Eunice took a slow step toward me, her heels clicking softly on the floor. The sound echoed too loudly in the tight space.
"Are the two of you… together?" she asked, glancing at Zia. Even without seeing her full expression, I could feel her anger. It rolled off her like heat — quiet, controlled, but dangerous.
"No," Zia said quickly, moving to the far side of the bed. Her shoulders stiffened, her movements defensive — like she was building an invisible wall between her and Eunice.
"Then what do you need? Why are you even here? Leil and you aren't even close," Eunice snapped, her tone laced with jealousy she didn't bother to hide.
"She is," I said quietly, my voice colder than I intended. My eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling, the light above me blurring into white nothing.
Eunice turned sharply toward me, her anger faltering into confusion.
"She is?" she echoed, one eyebrow arching, her tone softening — but only slightly.
Before either of them could say more, the door creaked open.
All three of us turned toward it.
Standing there was my mom.
"Oh, girls? It's too early for visitors," she said with a warm smile, glancing between Eunice and Zia — though her eyes lingered on Zia a moment too long.
"Ma, just let them," I said, trying to sound casual.
"Yes, Aunt Mirasol," Eunice said quickly, forcing a grin. "We're just… having fun here with Zia."
She shot Zia a sideways glance that didn't match her smile.
My mom tilted her head, studying Zia curiously. "Ohhh, so you're Zia," she said with a knowing smile.
"Ma? Why do you sound surprised? Or… teasing?" I asked, watching her carefully.
"Oh, nothing," she replied lightly. "I just saw her name somewhere."
Somewhere.
The word lingered in my head like a riddle.
I frowned. Where could she have seen Zia's name? She wasn't on my social media — she didn't even exist in any of my school papers.
Zia shifted uncomfortably, breaking my thoughts. "Mrs. Domingo, I should go. Thank you, Leil, for letting me stay," she said softly.
"Alright," my mom replied. "Be careful. It's already late."
As Zia walked out, I felt my mom's gaze follow her — quiet, searching, almost knowing.
Eunice lingered for a while, though we barely spoke. To be honest, she and I were never close. She left soon after, without saying goodbye.
The room fell silent again — except for the faint hum of the monitor, and the sound of my heartbeat catching up to everything that just happened.
Then my mom spoke.
"Zia was kind, huh?" she said, smiling faintly. "And she has such an angelic face."
"Uh… yeah," I muttered, unsure where this was going.
She looked at me, her smile turning teasing. "Her future girlfriend will be so lucky to have her."
My eyes widened. "H-how did you know she's a lesbian?" I asked, my pulse quickening.
My mom just looked at me — quiet, smiling still.
"You know, I can smell her vibe," she said softly. "The way she looked at you earlier? I know she's a lesbian."
Her voice was calm, but her eyes seemed distant — as if she was remembering something she couldn't quite say.
I blinked, trying to process. I'm a lesbian, too, but even I hadn't noticed it about Nickzia.
I stopped.
A sharp chill ran through my arm. My fingers twitched — then moved.
I gasped softly, curling and uncurling my hands. "I can… feel my body again."
My mom turned to me, eyes wide with disbelief. "Hey, you can move now?"
She reached for me, her hands trembling slightly as she touched my arm. "That's a real quick healing session," she whispered, half laughing, half in awe.
"I'll just call the doctor—"
"Wait." My voice came out rougher than I expected.
She froze.
The air shifted again — colder this time. The monitor beside me flickered once, the light dimming before returning to normal.
My mom's hand hovered over the call button. "Leil…?"
"I saw her," I whispered.
She frowned. "Who?"
"Zia," I said. "Outside. Standing in the moonlight."
Her expression changed — a flash of something crossed her face, too quick to name. Fear? Recognition? Guilt?
"Leil," she said quietly, "you're imagining things. She already left."
But I wasn't so sure. Because even now, beyond the window, I could see it — the faint outline of someone standing beneath the pale glow of the moon.
Watching.