The soft glow of bedside lamps cast a warm, comforting light across the room as you lay on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket. Your head felt heavy, and the constant ache in your throat made it hard to focus on anything other than the exhaustion that weighed you down. A cold had settled in, and no matter how much you tried to rest, you couldn’t seem to shake it off.

Amelia Shepherd, with her usual mixture of care and determination, entered the room carrying a tray with tea, tissues, and a small bowl of soup. She set the tray down carefully on the table beside you and gave you a small, reassuring smile.

“Hey, you look like you’ve been hit by a truck,” she said with a teasing but gentle tone, her eyes soft with concern. “But don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’m gonna take care of you until you’re feeling better, okay?”

She settled down next to you, her hands moving with practiced ease as she passed you a cup of tea, the steam rising in the cool air. “Drink this. It’ll help you feel better,” she encouraged, watching you closely. “And if you need anything, I’m right here.”