Lara spun around sharply toward the sound of the voice, her movements crisp, but her tense stance softened when her eyes landed on the frail woman stirring awake on the bed.
Only now did Lara notice that the woman's face was ashen, her cheeks hollow from days of illness, but her eyes—though tired—were alert and watchful.
"Ma'am, let me help you," Lara said, stepping forward quickly when she saw the woman attempting to push herself up, her thin arms trembling with effort.
"No need. You are a man, after all," the woman muttered hoarsely, her voice tinged with suspicion as she struggled to steady herself against the bedframe.
Before Lara could respond, a sweet, sing-song voice piped up from the edge of the bed. "Mother, she's a girl like me and Eva," Flora chirped, swinging her small legs as she sat perched on the edge, her feet not even grazing the floor.
