The next morning felt… lighter. For the first time in weeks, Amara woke without that dragging weight in her body. The dull ache had faded, her mind felt clearer, and there was a quiet kind of energy beneath her skin, something warm, something alive.
She was sitting by the window when Amira walked in, carrying the usual tray. The tea. That same bitter, herbal scent filled the room instantly.
Amara's nose wrinkled. "I can't drink that anymore," she said, almost immediately, shaking her head as she pushed the cup away gently. "It's been making me nauseous."
Amira paused. Just for a second. Her fingers tightened slightly around the tray.
"It's part of your recovery," she said carefully. "You should…"
"I feel fine," Amara cut in, her tone soft but certain. She stood, smoothing her dress as she moved past her. "Actually, I feel great." And it was true.
