Chapter 117 Condition

• Harley’s P.O.V.
• I sat beside Lena’s bed for hours, brushing her hair away from her forehead every few minutes just to assure myself that she was really here. Alive, safe, and breathing.
• Sarah, the witch Carlos brought, was surprisingly gentle. Her magic didn’t crackle, glow, or shimmer, lightning dramatically. Instead, it was quiet and warm, like a mother humming while gently bandaging a child's scraped knee.