Sumaya's entire body went cold. The realization crashed over her like a tidal wave, drowning out every rational thought.
What is going on? Can her mother also heals… like her?
She could feel it in her throat. Some of her mother's bruises were still there, the blood still dried on her skin, but her posture had changed. She looked… unshaken.
Her mother's fingers trembled slightly as they pressed against her lips, urging silence, but her gaze remained firm, warning.
Sumaya's wide, disbelieving eyes darted toward the front door where her father had just left. He had walked away, convinced Avanaya was still lying crumpled on the floor, too weak to move.
But she wasn't.
Slowly, Sumaya reached up, fingers wrapping around her mother's wrist, her touch was hesitant, as if afraid she might shatter whatever illusion this was. Avanaya lowered her hand, meeting Sumaya's wide, confused gaze.
"You—" Sumaya whispered, her voice barely escaping her throat. "You weren't really—"
