Flora, her face etched with concern, stepped into the room, the clinking of ice against glass announcing her arrival. In her hand, she held a glass of water, its condensation clinging to the surface like tiny diamonds. "Have some water, Stella," she offered, her voice soft but firm, a gentle counterpoint to the tension hanging heavy in the air.

Stella, her breathing still ragged from her earlier outburst, offered a weak but grateful, "Thank you." She reached out, her fingers trembling ...