The sterile, white-walled hallway of the hospital felt miles away from the dusty, ink-stained air of the publishing house. Alina and Abigail sat on uncomfortably, facing a doctor whose white coat was so crisp it looked like a shield against the messiness of human life.
The road to the hospital had been a loud, stressful blur. After a series of sharp arguments and shouting at the office, Maryam had finally reached her breaking point. She had shooed them off like annoying pests, but not without a cold bargain.
She promised to keep quiet about their sudden departure for exactly one day—but only if Alina agreed not to send her a single manuscript to edit for an entire week.
It was a heavy price to pay, especially since work was Alina's only distraction, but she had agreed without a second thought. Abigail's health was more important than Maryam's ego or a few days of boredom.
