NOAH.
Maria has never hurt me before.
Not once.
The thought settled firmly in my mind, steady and unshaken despite the storm Anabel's words had stirred. I tried to recall even a single moment—just one—where Maria had shown me anything but care.
There wasn't any.
Instead, what came to mind were entirely different memories.
Maria kneeling beside me when I had injured my hand during training, her brows furrowed in quiet concentration as she wrapped the bandage carefully, scolding me under her breath for being reckless.
Maria hovering near me whenever I so much as coughed, asking if I needed water, medicine, rest.
Maria watching me with that soft, almost worried look in her eyes whenever she thought I wasn't paying attention.
I had seen it.
The concern.
It was never forced. Never exaggerated. It lived in her eyes naturally, appearing every single time I was hurt or even slightly uncomfortable.
And she still does.
That wasn't something you could fake so consistently.
