Book 2. Chapter 60

60

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Alessa lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, the weight of her thoughts pressing heavily on her chest. She tried to keep it together, but tears slipped from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks without end. She couldn’t shake the ache that gripped her heart.

Just then, Martha entered the room with a tray, a soft but concerned look on her face. She placed the tray on the bedside table, watching Alessa with worry. "Dear, please eat something," Martha pleaded gently. "You haven’t had anything since yesterday, and at this rate, you’re going to make yourself ill."

Alessa sat up slowly, her face etched with fatigue, her eyes red from crying. She looked at Martha, desperation clouding her gaze. “Did… did Rican come?” she whispered, a faint glimmer of hope breaking through her sorrow.

Martha’s face softened even more, and she shook her head. “No, dear… he hasn’t come.”

That was all it took for Alessa’s last shred of composure to crumble. She buried her face in her hands an