Melody

The soft, rhythmic sound of Zoraya’s breathing was the only thing that filled the room as I sat by her bedside, my hands gently smoothing the blanket over her frail form.

The morning light spilled through the high windows, casting a golden hue across her face, but it did little to lift the worry that had taken root in my heart.

She was so still, her delicate features pale against the pillow, as though she carried the weight of an entire world on her shoulders. And in a way, she ...