Exhausted from the Journey.
As Sia continued pacing around the room, she cast nervous glances at Teresa, who lay motionless on the bed. Her chest rose and fell steadily, a peaceful contrast to Sia's frayed nerves.
Sia ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends, a habit she had when she was anxious.
Dante stood by the window, his silhouette a stark figure against the backdrop of the illusionary night. His gaze was distant, lost in thoughts he did not share.
Serena moved gracefully around the room, her dress whispering against the floor, creating an almost hypnotic rhythm that did little to calm Sia's nerves.
"Your friend is sleeping. There is no need to lose our wits about it," Dante reiterated, his voice steady and calm, in stark contrast to Sia's agitation. "She must have been exhausted from the journey, and it is catching up to her. It happens; do not be alarmed."
