I heard Sophie’s heels clicking closer in the hallway.
I held the nurse’s eyes and whispered,
“No.”
The door opened.
Sophie walked in with that same gentle smile—the one that never reached her eyes, the one I had come to fear more than anger.
The nurse didn’t react, but I felt her hand tighten slightly around the note.
Sophie’s gaze flicked from my face to the nurse, then to my hands, searching for anything out of place.
“Everything okay?” she asked lightly.
The nurse nodded, slipping the note into her pocket so smoothly it looked natural.
“Just checking her vitals.”
Sophie stepped closer, her hand settling on my shoulder again, her fingers pressing just a little harder than necessary.
“You know how she is,” she added with a soft laugh. “Always worrying over nothing.”
I kept my eyes down.
Not because I agreed.
Because I knew silence could protect me longer than truth.
The doctor returned with a clipboard.
“We’ll run a few scans,” he said. “Just to be safe.”
Sophie nodded, but I felt the tension in her body.
As they prepared to move me, the nurse leaned in, adjusting the blanket.
“You’re not alone,” she whispered.
Four simple words.
But they felt like the first crack in the walls around me.