"I''m heading out with the team to track down that snake. I''ll need you to watch over Mavis," Uriah said.


    Calliope shot him a look. "Did you really need to ask? Of course I''ll stay with her.”


    When Uriah left, Calliope quietly made her way to Mavis''s room. Mavis was lying motionless on the bed, the rhythmic beeping of the monitors the only sign of life in the room, each sound echoing the heavy silence.


    Mavis had always been reserved, but this silence—it was heavy, the kind of stillness that made Calliope''s chest ache with dread. She sat down beside her friend, unable to mask her worry. Life had never been kind to Mavis. Her parents never cared- she''d scraped her way through childhood, suffering more than anyone deserved.


    Things changed when she met Uriah. He taught her how to survive, how to stand on her own two feet. He treated her like family, like the little sister he never had: protective, gentle, but sometimes stern if she needed it.


    And somehow, through everything, Mavis found happiness. She clung to Uriah as if he were the one steady force in her world. Even after Calliope and Portia came into her life—bing like sisters themselves-Calliope knew that for Mavis, Uriah''s ce was irreceable.


    Mavis had confessed to him, over and over, hoping his feelings might change. But Uriah always turned her down, sometimes sharply, refusing to let her mistake gratitude for love. In the end, thisst mission was meant to be her final try. When that, too, ended in heartbreak, she decided it was time to move on-leave this dangerous life, settle down with someone outside the chaos.


    But fate had other ideas. Without realizing it, Mavis still couldn''t let go of Uriah. No one would take a bullet for someone they didn''t love.


    Calliope let out a long, aching sigh. "Mavis, why? You''re fast enough to dodge a bullet, and so is Uriah. You were so worried about him, you forgot he''s your mentor, and he''s still stronger than you."


    She reached out instinctively, voice soft with affection. "Don''t be afraid, Mavis I''m here I won''t let anything happen to you. You know how good I am inthe ER-I promise, you''ll be fine. But you have to wake up for me, okay?"


    She kept talking, letting her words fill the silence, not sure if Mavis heard a thing. There was still no sign of consciousness—just that steady, lonely beeping. Mavis''s state was far from reassuring.


    But Calliope was determined. Mavis


    had suffered for too many years. Now that she''d finally scraped


    together enough to make a fres


    start, she deserved a real chance at happiness—a quiet life maybe even


    a family of her own. This wasn''t supposed to be herst act.


    "Please, Mavis. Don''t leave now. Wake up... please," Calliope whispered.


    After a long pause, she stood, reaching for her kit and carefully selecting several fine silver needles. She nced at Mavis''s pale face, then began skillfully cing the needles into key points on her body.


    A handful of doctors walked in, catching Calliope mid-procedure. One of them, curiosity piqued, asked, “What exactly are you doing?"


    "I''m stimting her pressure points," Calliope replied, not looking up. "She hasn''t been responding, so I''m giving this a try. It should also help keep the poison in check."


    "Are those needles medicated?" another doctor asked. "Or is the stimtion enough on its own?"


    "No medicine on these," Calliope


    answered, her tone brisk. "For the


    infection, I have to mix up


    something stronger. The usual.


    drugs just aren''t potent enough f


    for a


    case like hers. She needs something


    custom, something much more


    aggressive."


    The group of doctors watched, clearly impressed by Calliope''s skill and confidence.