#Chapter 114: Truth and Healing
Aurora's POV
The next morning came with the kind of crisp clarity you get after a storm passes. Like the air itself had been scrubbed clean. Kane showed up at my recovery room carrying breakfast and intelligence reports, moving with less of that coiled tension he'd worn for weeks.
Dr. Ashford had cleared me for light activity. My shoulder still felt stiff from the silver poisoning, but I could move it without wanting to scream. Kane positioned himself in the chair beside my bed, not his usual professional three-step distance, but close enough that our knees almost touched.
Small progress. But progress nonetheless.
"How’s the patient feeling today?" he asked, setting down a tray that actually looked edible instead of the bland medical slop I'd been expecting.
"Better, ready to get out of here," I replied, noting how he'd remembered everything I liked. Strong coffee that could wake the dead. Fresh fruit. That honey bread that tasted like childhood mornings when the world still

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