Minerva, likely still under the effects of the medicine she'd taken, remained deep in her sleep, undisturbed by Alice's cries, no matter how loud they became.
The sound of Alice's crying echoed down the hallway, reaching the nurse who had been heading toward Rafael's room.
She paused momentarily, unsure whether Alice had forgotten to close the door or if it was intentional.
But after years of witnessing the petty rivalries and pretentious displays of the wealthy, the nurse's expression remained neutral.
She had seen enough to know better than to get involved.
With a practiced indifference, she continued her walk towards the nurse's station, pretending not to hear anything.
But this only deepened Alice's resentment.
She collapsed onto the guest sofa in Minerva's room, pulling her legs up to curl into herself, burying her face in her knees.
She looked small and fragile, a picture of loneliness and defeat.
