Silas walked down the hospital corridor to Sylvain room as a nurse had informed him moments ago that Sylvain had finally woken up.
The news brought a strange mix of relief and irritation. He carried a small tray with a bowl of warm porridge, carefully prepared by the hospital kitchen according to Dr. Marcus's instructions — light, nutritious, and easy to digest.
He stopped outside Room 4, taking a moment to compose himself before pushing the door open.
Sylvain was sitting up slightly in the bed, propped against pillows, looking pale and fragile. His eyes were red from crying, and his hands trembled as they rested on the blanket. When he saw Silas, a flicker of fear crossed his face, but it quickly faded into numb resignation.
Silas approached the bed without speaking at first. He set the tray on the bedside table and pulled a chair closer.
"You're awake," Silas said quietly, his voice surprisingly gentle. "The doctor said you needed to eat something light. I brought porridge."
