A man walked in, carrying a bouquet of vibrant sunflowers and a gentle smile that contrasted sharply with the tension that had just left the room. This was Ethan, Harley’s childhood friend, who had been by her side through countless storms.
“I thought I’d find you awake by now,” he said softly, placing the flowers on the bedside table. “How are you feeling?”
Harley managed a small smile, the warmth of his presence already beginning to soothe the rawness left in Mark’s wake. “I’ve been better,” she replied, her voice still hoarse. “But it’s nice to see a friendly face.”
