Chapter 269: The Quiet Lobby
Snow had resud falling in muffled sheets outside, soft and steady.
It streaked past the windows of the dical facility, laying another pale hush over the pack compound. Inside, the world was warr—herbs simred in a corner kettle, their scent knitting the air into sothing sweet and dicinal, and the low, steady heat kept the rooms comfortable even as the wind bit the outside walls.
The dical facility bustled with activity. Healers moved about as they boiled herbs and took down things to note in their books. Rita worked too; she had been working all morning after all, especially because she was still an apprentice.
She had just decided to take a short rest, and she sat on a chair placed directly behind the wooden counter. It was the first place patients went when they approached, except if it was a critical condition though.
But she had just sat down when the doors flew open, although politely.
She looked up and saw that the people who walked in were trainees.
Dren, Joren, Cat, Laia, Nia and Micah stood inside the facility. They had bright smiles on their faces, and since Rita was the one at the desk, that ant she was going to attend to them.
"Is sothing the matter?" Rita asked them with a frown.
She was familiar with them after all, especially the twins, so she skipped the usual greeting.
"Rita, baby," Nia crooned.
"Is that how you expect to get n?" Dren asked her with a barely disgusted frown.
"What do you know about getting n, or even won in general?" Nia replied to him with an eye roll.
"He knows nothing," Cat supplied, making Dren roll his eyes.
Rita suppressed her laugh. "What are you guys doing here? You’re crowding up my workspace."
"I’m here for you," Nia said, but even she couldn’t hold character for long. She burst out laughing, making Rita chuckle too.
"We ca to see Sophia. We even brought food," Joren said, raising the parcel up.
They had stopped by the kitchens first—Cook had packed warm broth and a pot pie wrapped in linen—and the little parcel was clutched in Joren’s hands like an offering.
"Oh," Rita said. "That’s lovely, but um...only a selected amount of people can see Sophia for now."
The group exchanged looks that were all the sa: confusion that was quickly slipping into worry.
"Why?" Micah asked. "We know she’s ill. We just want to see her."
Rita’s smile slipped into sothing reserved. "I know you’re worried. I am too. But Lysander has ordered that visitors be limited."
"Um... surely that doesn’t extend to us, right? We are basically Sophia’s family," Dren spoke up.
"I’m sorry, but it extends to you guys too. The people who are allowed to see Sophia are basically experienced professionals. You guys are not included," Rita told them.
"I can be a professional too," Cat said to her. "What do you need to learn to beco a professional?"
Rita smiled. "We all know you don’t have the smallest talent for dicine, Cat."
Laia’s mouth tightened. "But we are her friends. Even if we are not professionals, surely we should still be able to see her, right?"
Rita’s eyes softened. She had seen them with Sophia. Everyone in the pack knew that this was the group Sophia related with more. They were all friends of hers after all, and judging from the tone, they cared for Sophia like she was their sister. But rules were rules, and given what she’d heard about Sophia’s condition, she understood why Lysander and Marta made it strictly so that she doesn’t get visitors.
No one knows when she’ll break down after all, and even for a friend, seeing Sophia like this will be shocking.
"I know you are close to her," Rita said. "And I know how much she ans to you guys. But this rule was placed because of her condition."
Micah’s jaw worked. He stepped forward and rested both hands on the desk.
"Is there sothing more? We were told it was just a fever, and it’s been two days since she’s been here. If it was a normal fever, then she would have woken up now, right?"
Rita blinked at him. "I’m sorry, I can’t disclose information about Sophia’s condition to you."
"Oh co on, Rita," Nia groaned. "You can at least tell us sothing. This doesn’t make any sense. We even brought food for her."
"We didn’t co to cause trouble," Cat said, folding her arms. "We just want to make sure she—"
"—isn’t alone," Dren finished, voice small. "She’s our friend." He glanced at Joren, who had placed the parcel carefully on the counter where Rita could reach it. Joren’s hands were steady, but the color had drained from his cheeks.
Rita’s expression grew apologetic. "I am really sorry, guys, but there is nothing I can do. If you stay here, I’ll just keep on repeating the sa thing over and over again," she told them.
A low chorus of disgruntled noises rose from the group. Laia made a sound—half protest, half plea. Nia huffed softly in disbelief.
"It feels like you’re excluding us," Nia said. "We care about her too."
Rita’s smile was patient, trained. "If I could do otherwise, I would. But this is what was ordered. I’m only following instructions, don’t shoot the ssenger," she told them.
"I’m tempted to shoot you right now," Nia muttered under her breath. "I don’t know if I like you anymore."
As the group contemplated if they should really leave or not, they heard footsteps and the sound of voices. Joren’s ears picked up because he would recognize that voice even in his sleep.
He turned towards the other door that led to the rooms in the dical facility, and within seconds, Orion walked in with Marta at his side. They were speaking quietly.
Imdiately, Joren saw Orion. He ran to him with the parcel of food still in his hands.
"Alpha Orion," he called out.
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