Sophia’s POV
I had always known how to play the part when it mattered most. Some people were born with it, the instinct to bend a moment to their will, to turn weakness into power. I learned early that survival was not about strength, but about timing, expression, and knowing exactly when to break.
The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and old fear, the kind that seeped into your skin and refused to leave. I sat in the wheelchair with the blanket pulled tightly around my shoulders, my posture small and fragile. The instant the door opened and Ethan walked in, my face crumpled, my breath hitching as if I had been holding it in for hours.
“You came,” I whispered, my voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. Tears gathered in my eyes and spilled over slowly, carefully measured. “I wa
