Chapter 282

• Thalassa sat in the hard, plastic chair by the wall in Rita’s ICU unit, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The sterile scent of disinfectant filled her nostrils, but she barely noticed it anymore.
• Her eyes were fixed on the frail figure lying in the hospital bed. Rita was surrounded by machines—a heart monitor that beeped steadily, an IV drip that fed her weakened body, and a nasal cannula that provided oxygen through thin, clear tubes resting against her pale face.
• She had always been so strong, so full of life. Seeing her like this, so still and vulnerable, made Thalassa’s chest ache.