"Is he going to be okay?" she asked, her gaze fixed on Liam. She had a small teddy bear in her hands, which she placed on the table next to Liam's bed.
"The doctors seem to think so," I said, my voice a little cold. "But he's not out of the woods yet."
She nodded, her expression sad. "He's a strong kid. He'll pull through. He has to."
We stood there in silence for a few moments, the only sound the rhythmic whoosh of the ventilator.
"I heard about the rumors," she said, her voice a low whisper. "About Yasmine. I'm so sorry you have to go through that. It's disgusting."
I looked at her, surprised by her show of solidarity. I had expected her to gloat, to take pleasure in my misery. But instead, she looked genuinely angry on my behalf.
"Who would do such a thing?" she continued, her han
