The medical wing did not sleep, though the world beyond its walls had fallen into uneasy quiet, for the faint hum of machines and the soft rustle of fabric carried through the dim corridor like a pulse that refused to cease.
Sarah Romano lay against the narrow bed, her body still marked by healing that had not yet finished its quiet work, her fingers resting loosely upon the blanket as though even movement required thought she did not wish to spend.
The light above her burned low and steady, casting soft shadows across her face, catching the faint tension that lingered in her jaw, in the slight crease between her brows that sleep had not eased.
Her gaze remained fixed upon the ceiling, though she did not see it, for her thoughts moved elsewhere, dragged backward into memories that clung sharper than any wound.
"…you stayed," a voice said softly from the doorway.
It was familiar.
