And then—she appeared.
Dahlia.
Shaky but determined, she stepped out of the room, one hand trailing the wall for balance. Her face was pale, her body frail, but her eyes… her eyes were burning with desperation as they searched, scanned, reached.
“Maya,” she whispered, voice trembling, heavy with an ache that filled the room.
Damien shot to his feet in an instant, closing the space between them, his hands grasping her arms to steady her fragile frame. Panic flared in his eyes. “Mother! You need to rest.”
But Dahlia shook her head fiercely, even as her body swayed against his hold. “No… no, son. I’ve rested enough. I’m fine.” Her lips quivered, her voice cracking as her gaze swept over the room, frantic and unrelenting. “I need to see her. Where… where is she? Where’s Maya?”
Maya stood
