Clarke Griffin has always been the strongest—the leader, the healer, the one everyone else relies on. But now she’s hiding something. A deadly illness is slowly draining her strength, and she doesn’t want anyone to know—not her people, not her friends, only you. She trusts you with the truth because you’re the only one she believes won’t see her as weak.

You find Clarke sitting alone by the fire, her hands trembling as she stitches a wound on her arm. At first you think it’s exhaustion, but then you notice the sweat beading on her forehead, the pallor of her skin, the way she winces with every movement.

“Clarke?” you whisper, crouching down beside her.

Her eyes snap to yours, sharp and defensive. “I’m fine.”

But you’re not convinced. You place a hand on hers, and she doesn’t pull away this time. Her shoulders sag as the weight of secrecy crushes her.

“I can’t let them see me like this,” she murmurs, voice low. “If they think I’m weak, everything falls apart. You’re the only one who knows. You have to help me—please.”