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... was thick and still, broken only by the soft, steady beeping of the heart monitor and the faint hum of machines. She was finally asleep.

I sat back in the chair beside her bed, her hand in mine, my thumb tracing the faintest circles along her knuckles. The dim lighting bathed everything in a bluish glow, casting soft shadows on her skin. She looked so damn small in that bed—still flushed, even in rest.

The door creaked softly behind me. I didn’t look up. I didn’t have to.

...

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