In one of the quiet medical rooms of the selection area infirmary, Elizabeth lay motionless on the white hospital bed. Her skin was pale, unnaturally so, and her once-raven black hair remained a snowy white, draped over the pillow like a fragile veil. The room was dim, lit only by a soft overhead light, casting long shadows across the tiles.
Leon sat beside her, hunched over on a stool, his elbows resting on his knees. He hadn't moved in a while. His hands were clasped tightly around Elizabeth's, the one attached to an IV line that trickled a steady drip into her veins.
His mind replayed the healer's words like a curse.
"Physically, she's perfectly fine and we can't find anything wrong."
Leon had nearly lost it then.
