Author's pov
Enzo entered his room, the dim light casting long shadows that seemed to mirror his troubled thoughts. Tiara lay on the bed, her face a pale mask of exhaustion, and her breathing shallow but steady. The room felt colder than usual, its silence almost oppressive. Enzo felt an uneasy churn in his stomach, a gnawing guilt that had taken root ever since he'd seen her in this state.
The lady doctor had just finished explaining Tiara's condition to him, her tone professional yet laced with concern. Enzo listened, but his mind was elsewhere, reeling from the weight of what had transpired. He couldn't erase the image of Tiara's terrified eyes, the way she had flinched at his every word and movement.
