The morning sun spilled into the therapy room like a golden ribbon, lighting up the long corridors where Zaria and Arjun had started to find their strength. The air was crisp, faintly scented with antiseptic, and filled with quiet encouragement from nurses and therapists guiding patients down their slow, hopeful steps.
It was Zaria's first morning after Sally had left. He had quietly departed the night before, brushing a hand down her hair as she slept, whispering a promise she didn't hear. But when Zaria opened her eyes and found an empty chair beside her bed, a faint ache settled in her heart. Sally had been her quiet strength throughout the long weeks of recovery, and now the room felt a shade quieter, a shade lonelier.
Nurse Angela came in as Zaria was brushing hair from her eyes and staring at the spot where Sally had always sat. "Good morning, Zaria," she said softly, brushing a hand down the side of the bed. "Did you rest well?"
Zaria smiled faintly, brushing hair from her pale, tired face. "I tried. Did… Sally leave?"
Angela smiled, brushing hair from Zaria's forehead. "Yes, early this morning. He has work he must tend to, but he promised to call. He left a message for you." She pulled a small, folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Zaria.
With shaking hands, Zaria opened the paper. The words, hastily scrawled, felt like a whisper from a parent she longed for:
> "Zaria,
You're stronger than you realize. Every step you take, every breath you draw is a miracle. Stay brave, stay hopeful. I'll be back soon. Never forget — you're worth every effort, every sacrifice.
—S"
A quiet warmth bubbled in Zaria's chest as she pressed the paper to her heart. She didn't understand why this man — this quiet, caring man — refused to leave her side. Yet she felt safe with him. And that was enough.
With a deep breath, Zaria pulled herself from the bed and into the therapy room where the soft hum of life was rising. As she stepped in, she spotted Arjun making his slow walk between the bars, focusing every ounce of strength on putting one foot in front of the other.
"Arjun," she called quietly, brushing hair from her tired eyes.
He looked up and smiled shyly. "Good morning, Zaria. Did you rest well?"
"Better than usual," she replied with a shy smile. "What about you?"
Arjun shrugged, brushing hair from his damp forehead. "Better than usual too. The pain is still there, but… I can bear it when I remember why I have to." He gave her a shy glance, brushing hair from his eyes. "Why do you keep going?"
Zaria smiled faintly, brushing hair from the side of her pale, beautiful face. "Because I don't want this chapter to be the end of my story. The poison tried to take my life, but it didn't win. So every step I take is like telling it 'you lost'."
Arjun smiled quietly, brushing hair from his own sweaty forehead. "That's… a very brave way to put it. I like that." After a moment, he offered a hand shyly. "Then maybe… we can walk this chapter together?"
Zaria felt a shy warmth rise in her chest. Slowly, she brushed hair from her tired face, smiled, and placed her hand in his. "I'd like that, Arjun. Let's walk this chapter together."
With Angela and the other therapists watching from a distance, the two of them began that slow, hopeful walk down the long therapy lane. The sound of their breathing, the shuffle of their feet, and the faint creak of the parallel bars felt like music — a quiet symphony of survival and belonging.
Through the long morning, Zaria felt herself growing stronger. Not because the pain was gone, or the trauma erased, but because every step she took felt like a reminder that she was still here. That she still had a chance to write a new chapter for herself. A chapter of strength, of belonging, and — maybe one day — a chapter of love.
As she sank into bed later that evening, exhausted but hopeful, she felt herself brushing the piece of paper from Sally between her fingers. The words felt like a beacon. Not knowing that the quiet, caring man was her stepfather didn't matter for now. What mattered was that she felt seen, cherished, and strong.
In that quiet room, under the faint glow of a lamp, surrounded by memories of the therapy room and the shy smile of a boy named Arjun, Zaria felt herself drift into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Today was just one chapter of many. A chapter that promised brighter tomorrows. A chapter where, despite the poison and the scars it left, a new strength was rising within her — a strength that refused to be broken, a heart that refused to be defeated.
And somewhere, far away, a man named Sally promised himself he would return, knowing that the chapter that connected their hearts was only just beginning.