The walk back to Hana's house seemed shorter.

  My mind churned with worry and the sharp, hollow ache of having given away the only real warmth Father had ever offered me.

  My emotions complicated further when I felt guilty over my sadness for losing the bracelet.

  Hana's life and health were worth more than that piece of hope disguised as jewelry ever could.

  My hurried steps were occasionally blocked by large groups of people, but this time I barely paid them attention. I didn't notice the few pairs of eyes that lit with recognition once they settled on me.

  I sighed in relief once Hana's house came into view.

  I didn't have to wait long after I knocked. Mariel's hurried steps could be heard approaching the door.

  "Alya! Come in, darling!"

  I noticed with relief that her eyes looked significantly less frantic than before.

  Mariel wasted no time and accompanied me to Hana's room. I needed to see if my friend was better. The medic was gathering her belongings when we entered. I caught the faint smell of potions.

  "Oh, Lady Velmire, I imagine?" The woman was dressed impeccably in a white suit that didn't quite fit in the small colorful room. Her hair was cut rather short for a mage. Some rune tattoos were visible above her collar.

  "Yes, indeed." I forced my spine straight, the familiar mask sliding into place despite the warmth of the tiny room threatening to melt it off.

  The medic inclined her head in a respectful but brisk nod. "Your friend will stabilize now. She was in worse condition than initially stated." Her voice carried the clipped efficiency of someone used to giving bad news succinctly.

  "One cracked rib. Internal bruising. Fever induced by stress and pain. I set the shallow fractures, purged the inflammation, and administered a fever reducer."

  My breath caught. A cracked rib?

  My hands curled into fists behind my back.

  Mariel hovered at the bedside, brushing a loose curl from Hana's damp forehead. "Will she recover fully?"

  "With rest, yes. In about six weeks. She must stay warm. Hydrated. No strain on the torso for at least a two weeks."

  "Six weeks? I recently got similar injuries and the medic told be it would take two to recover."

  Could that be that mages heal faster?

  "With Veil grade aether crystals, yes. Unfortunately, those are very hard to come by and regulated. I'm afraid this is all I can do."

  I sighed and nodded.

  I stepped closer, unable to stop myself from inspecting Hana: the flushed cheeks, the way her breathing—though steadier—still hitched every few breaths. But her eyes, barely open before, now fluttered as she stirred in her sleep.

  "She fell asleep a while ago," Mariel murmured. "She responded to your voice."

  My chest warmed at that.

  The medic snapped the latch of her case closed. "I've left two potions on the nightstand. Fever reducer and analgesic. Administer every six hours. If she struggles to breathe, call immediately."

  Mariel nodded fervently. "Of course. Thank you."

  The medic and I exchanged a glance. "Mariel, I'll escort the medic to the door, don't worry."

  I sent what I hoped was a reassuring smile and after receiving a grateful nod, made my way to the lower floor with the medic following closely.

  "I was told you'd be covering the payment, Lady Velmire. The fee comes to 1500 Lirae. Should I send it directly to House Velmire?"

  I spun around faster than intended.

  "No, thank you. I will be covering it right now."

  I reached into my coat pocket and retrieved the bills the pawn shop owner had counted into my palm less than an hour ago.

  Three bills of five hundred. The medic put them in a small black pocketbook. "

  Receipt?"

  "Not necessary." Perhaps too quickly.

  The medic's eyebrow rose slightly, but she simply inclined her head. "Very well. Good evening, my lady."

  I showed her to the door, watching until the woman's white-clad figure disappeared around the corner. Only then did I allow my spine to relax.

  Fifteen hundred Lirae.

  I'd expected... more. Significantly more. I'd even asked more for the bracelet hoping to cover the medical expenses. And now I had money left over.

  The realization sat strangely. I'd never thought about money before. It simply was. Servants were paid. Goods appeared. Bills and checks went to Father's desk and vanished into ledgers I never saw.

  But fifteen hundred Lirae was apparently enough for proper medical attention, and I'd been prepared to spend everything.

  How much did Mariel make at the mill?

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  How much did Hana earn working at the manor?

  The questions felt uncomfortable, like prodding a bruise.

  I pushed off the doorframe and climbed the stairs, my legs suddenly heavy. The adrenaline that had carried me through the day was draining away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.

  Hana's room was quiet when I entered.

  Mariel sat in the chair beside the bed, one hand resting on her daughter's arm. She looked up as I approached.

  "She looks peaceful now. The fever is gone."

  I moved closer, studying Hana's face. The flush had faded into something less alarming. Her bruise, though still deep in color, was no longer swollen. Her breathing came steadier.

  I nodded. Good.

  Yet I felt restless. With the danger of Hana's injuries left behind, my mind wasted no time flooding with thoughts of not knowing what to do, whether Father was going to track me to Hana's house, and memories of walking through Lumeria's lower district.

  A migraine, my constant companion, made itself at home between my temples.

  "Come." Mariel stood, putting a hand gently on my arm. "You need to eat. We both do."

  My bowl was still on the table when we arrived downstairs. Mariel took it and poured the cold soup back into the pot to reheat it.

  I sat at the table, noticing the beautiful crochet placemats. White daisies. I wondered if Mariel or Hana had made them. If I could ever make something this pretty. If my life with my mother would have been similar to this.

  The first spoonful was delicious—rich with tomato and herbs, the egg soft and pleasant. I ate with more appetite than I'd realized I had.

  "You've never been to this part of the city before." Mariel paused to watch me with that same quiet concern.

  "No." I set down my spoon. "I didn't know... I mean, I'd heard of the lower quarters, but—"

  I stopped, unsure how to finish without sounding insulting.

  "But you were told it was dangerous," Mariel finished gently. "Full of criminals and desperate people. I've seen the headlines, even read the articles sometimes. The things some of our politicians say..."

  My silence was answer enough.

  "It's not." There was no judgment in her tone. "Or, it is, sometimes. Like anywhere. But mostly it's just people trying to live peacefully. Work. Raise families." She took a slow sip of soup. "The city looks different from here than it does from the other side of the river, I imagine."

  "It does." My voice came small.

  We ate in comfortable silence for a while. Then Mariel set down her spoon with careful deliberation.

  "Alya." She looked deep into my eyes. "I need to ask you something."

  My stomach clenched. "Alright."

  "Do you have somewhere safe to go?"

  The question landed like a stone in still water.

  "I—" I started, then stopped. My first instinct was to lie, to deflect, to maintain the mask. Bu Mariel's steady gaze stripped that option away. "No, not right now..."

  Mariel nodded slowly, as if she'd expected that answer. "Hana told me some things. Not everything—she's loyal to you, won't betray your confidence—but enough for me to figure things out. Not to mention, you didn't arrive in good condition either yesterday." She folded her hands on the table. "I won't ask anything you're not comfortable sharing, darling. But just know this. You're welcome to stay here. As long as you need. It's not much, and you'll have to use Tiana's old room and clothes, but—"

  "I can't impose on you like that. You've already done so much."

  "You're not imposing." Mariel's voice was firm but kind. "You helped me with Hana so much today. I don't want to think what would have happened without you there. You think I'd turn you out onto the street?" She shook her head.

  "Besides, Hana cares for you deeply. That makes you family, as far as I'm concerned."

  Family.

  The word hit me harder than it should have. I blinked rapidly, tears blurring my vision.

  "I..." I swallowed. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't have a plan. I just—I couldn't stay there anymore."

  "Then don't. Stay here. Figure it out as you go. That's what the rest of us usually do." She smiled encouragingly.

  I stared into her eyes, finding nothing but genuine welcome there.

  "Thank you." I whispered. "I'll... yes. Thank you."

  Mariel reached across the table to squeeze my hand. "Good. That's settled then."

  We finished our bowls in more comfortable silence. But as Mariel began clearing them, she paused, a small smile playing at her lips.

  "You know, today I saw more magic than I usually see in an entire year."

  I blinked. "What do you mean?"

  "At the mill, sometimes a mage or two will use magic to monitor productivity, or for quality control checks. But it's nothing like what you and that woman did for Hana. Most of us never experience magic as something... caring. Comforting."

  Those words sank deep. I didn't know what to say.

  Mariel's words lingered in the quiet kitchen, suspended between the soft street noises and the ticking clock. I sat still, letting the unfamiliar warmth in my chest settle.

  Upstairs, a faint rustle broke the silence.

  Mariel looked up sharply. "That's her."

  She rose and hurried toward the stairs. I followed on instinct, my heart beating fast.

  When we stepped into the room, Hana was blinking sleepily. Her eyes were clearer now—still tired, but undeniably present.

  "Hana." Relief loosened every muscle in my body.

  She turned her head toward the sound, a slow smile forming on her lips. "Alya...?" Her voice was a thin rasp, but hearing it felt like stepping into sunlight.

  "Oh good, darling, you're awake." Mariel brushed warm fingers across her daughter's cheek. "How do you feel?"

  Hana let out a breath. "Like a tree fell on me... but a small tree."

  Her attempt at humor was weak, but it was humor, and that was enough.

  I laughed under my breath, a shaky sound. "You scared us."

  "I scared myself."

  I spent some time making sure my friend was alright before going to Tiana's room to change into more comfortable clothes. I stopped to look around the small cozy room, imagining what life would be like here, with Hana and her family, calling this warm space my own. A soft smile graced my lips as I put on a pair of fuzzy red polka dot socks.

  When I returned to Hana's room, Mariel was sitting beside the bed, holding her daughter's hand and talking softly. I wondered if I should have given them more time alone.

  "Oh, Alya! Great, you're back." She looked at the red fuzzy cardigan and blue pajama pants and smiled. "I'm so glad the clothes fit well, darling."

  She rose from the chair, tucking some stray curls into her hair tie.

  Mariel kissed Hana's forehead. "I'm going to get some soup for you. Alya, stay with her a moment? Keep her awake."

  I nodded, lowering myself onto the chair as Mariel left the room.

  For a few breaths, neither of us spoke. We simply shared the quiet, Hana's hand resting weakly on the quilt, my fingers tracing small circles on it absently.

  "You're safe," I murmured, unsure if I was reassuring Hana or myself.

  Hana blinked slowly. "You... you went to get a medic, right?"

  "Your mother contacted her. I just... yes."

  Hana shifted slightly, testing her now-mended ribs with a small wince. "Thank you."

  "You don't have to thank me. I should've protected you. I should've—"

  "Alya." Hana interrupted in a whisper. "You saved me."

  Before I could reply, Mariel returned balancing a steaming bowl on a tray, her expression softening at the sight of us.

  "Here we go. Eat slow." She passed the spoon into her daughter's hand.

  I adjusted the pillows behind Hana's shoulders to help her sit upright. Hana muttered a sleepy "thanks" but managed to take several spoonfuls.

  Color returned gradually to her cheeks.

  Once she finished, Mariel carried the tray downstairs with a relieved sigh.

  "I'll wash these. You two go sit in the living room. Hana needs a softer chair."

  I offered my hand, and Hana took it, leaning on me carefully as we walked out. The living room was small but warm, lit by soft yellow lamps, a crocheted blanket thrown over the back of a deep, comfortable sofa.

  Hana sank into the orange cushions with a small sigh of pleasure.

  I settled beside her, folding my hands awkwardly in my lap.

  For a moment, there was only peaceful silence.

  Then Hana's eyes narrowed slightly, studying my coat sleeve. "You left the house with nothing yesterday. And you came back with money for the medic. I know my mom didn't have it."

  I stiffened.

  Hana tilted her head. "Where did the money come from?" Her tone was curious rather than accusing.

  I swallowed. I'd practiced the answer in my head. It still felt heavy.

  "A pawn shop. I sold something I didn't need."

  Hana's dark brows drew together. "What did you sell?"

  I hesitated. Then, slowly, I pushed back my sleeve.

  Her eyes widened the moment she saw the bare wrist.

  "The bracelet." Sadness painted clearly across her face. "You sold your bracelet."

  "It wasn't important." I said it quickly, almost sharply, as if I could cut away the truth before it settled. "It was just... something I had. Hana, your life mattered more."

  Hana stared at me in stunned silence, then reached forward and pulled me into a sudden, careful embrace—gentle around her ribs, but fierce everywhere else.

  I froze. Then melted.

  "You loved that thing." Hana murmured against my shoulder. "I always saw you fidget with it when you were anxious."

  "It was just a bracelet." Weakly.

  "No." Hana pulled back enough to meet my eyes. "It wasn't."

  My throat tightened. "It really doesn't matter anymore."

  "It does." Hana whispered. "To me."

  I didn't trust myself to speak.

  Hana wiped a stray tear from my cheek, then brightened slightly. "Mom told me you're staying with us. Is that true?"

  I exhaled, the sound soft and shy. "Yes. If... if you and Mariel truly want me here."

  Hana's face lit up completely—like she'd been waiting years for the question. "Alya, gods, of course we want you here!" She laughed, wincing a little. "I have so many things to show you. The bakery at the corner, the old bridge, the library—gods, the library!" She clutched her pillow excitedly. "And you need to try my mom's roasted squash stew. And—"

  "Hana," Mariel called from the kitchen, amusement thick in her voice. "You're not going on any trips until you can walk without wobbling like a newborn fawn."

  I smiled and leaned back into the sofa cushions.

  The rest of the afternoon passed gently. We spoke, laughed, fell into comfortable silences. I learned the rhythms of the house: when the old heater clicked, how the wind whistled through a loose window frame, the way Mariel's humming filled all the spaces that would've been cold and empty in the manor.

  For the first time in years, I felt... held.

  As dusk crept in, Mariel set a bag of flour and a bowl on the kitchen table.

  "Hana," she called over her shoulder, "you promised last year you'd teach me that cookie recipe of yours."

  "I'll teach both of you," Hana declared proudly, shuffling toward the table with my help.

  I found myself dusted with flour within minutes.

  "Not like that!" Hana laughed breathlessly, guiding my actions from her chair. "You're kneading like it's going to attack you."

  "I'm cautious. Dough is unpredictable."

  Mariel burst out laughing.

  The moment was light, perfect, and I felt it settle deep inside me, a memory I would keep forever.

  A firm knock rattled the front door stopped us.

  Mariel straightened slowly, wiping her hands on a towel. "Who could that be at this hour...?"

  My heartbeat began pounding, sick and instant. I felt Hana grip my hand.

  Mariel walked to the door and opened it.

  Then froze.

  A tall figure stepped inside the threshold just enough for the light to catch the sharp lines of his face.

  His eyes locked onto me.

  "Alya," he said coolly. "It's time to come home."