MAYA, my love.

CHAPTER 40

Ein stood just outside Lilo's hospital room, his posture reflecting the weariness of the long day. He waited as the nurse finalized the discharge paperwork. The little girl, who had endured so much, was now fit to return home. Lilo's parents, Jared and Sophia, sat beside their daughter's bed, a palpable sense of relief etched on their faces. As Ein approached them, his lips curled into a warm, reassuring smile.

"Everything is in order," he said, his voice calm and soothing. "Lilo is free to go home. However, she remains somewhat fatigued, so I recommend allowing her a few days of rest—two or three, at most—before she resumes her usual activities."

Sophia lifted her gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly with concern. "Is Dr. Mey still occupied? We wished to express our gratitude to her personally for everything."

Ein hesitated, his expression softening. "Dr. Mey is, alas, still immersed in her work in the laboratories. You are aware of the situation, right Jared . She has scarcely left the facility these past several days."

Sophia's brow furrowed deeply. "That is troubling. Is there no one who might persuade her to take a brief respite?"

Ein shook his head gently, his eyes betraying a note of concern. "Alas, no. We tried only to be ignored."

"Is her work near completion?" Jared asked. "I understand she made an agreement with His Highness to finalize it by the week's end. Do you anticipate that she will meet this deadline?"

"She will likely complete it ahead of schedule," Ein replied, offering a faint, reassuring smile. "She will not allow this opportunity to slip by. She is, in fact, nearing the conclusion of her research. She asked me to come in her stead, to convey her sincere thanks for your invaluable assistance with the research and for allowing Lilo to be the first to undergo the plasma treatment. She had hoped to thank you personally, but..."

Jared waved a hand dismissively, a gesture that was both casual and sincere. "There is no need for such formalities. We have the utmost trust in Dr. Mey. She has always been there for us. We owe her our deepest gratitude."

Sophia nodded, her face softened by a mixture of relief and fondness. "We are merely overjoyed that Lilo is better. Is she truly well? I've heard bits of the story from Jared regarding the events that followed Mr. Arthur Bellack's funeral."

"She has been... altered in ways that are difficult to explain, since Arthur's passing. The loss seems to weigh heavily on her, more than she lets on. Of course its tough on all of us since Arthur left." Ein said in a melancholic tone as he remembered the fond memories of him and Arthur always bickering with eachother.

Jared's expression, though weary, was one of understanding. "We comprehend the depth of the grief. We shall make a point of visiting her soon, offering our condolences."

Sophia added gently, "We will ensure she knows we are here for her, should she need us."

Ein's eyes briefly flickered to Lilo, who lay sleeping soundly in her father's arms, her small form at peace. "Dr. Mey has been avoiding any discussions about Arthur. I trust you are familiar with her temperament. I would advise that you not broach the subject too directly. She tends to withdraw from conversations about that subject that stir painful memories."

Jared nodded with a knowing, sympathetic expression. "We shall tread carefully."

As Ein turned to leave, Jared stopped him, his tone earnest and resolute. "Listen Ein. Please, convey to Dr. Mey that we stand ready to assist her in any way we can. And when she presents her new treatment to the royal court, rest assured I shall be there, fully supporting her. Lilo is living proof of the treatment's efficacy."

Ein's smile returned, his eyes crinkling with warmth as he offered a final, appreciative glance and tapped Jared's arm. "I will certainly pass along your message."

With the discharge complete, Ein watched as the family left the hospital, Lilo cradled securely in her father's arms. The weight of the moment settled over him, a faint sense of hope rising within him. Dr. Mey's treatment would indeed alter the course of the epidemic. He recalled how, when she first proposed the idea of plasma treatment, many had scoffed, questioning the viability of such a novel method. Yet now, they stood on the precipice of something truly groundbreaking.

The treatment, he reflected, was nothing short of revolutionary. Dr. Mey's name would undoubtedly be immortalized in the annals of history as a hero. Yet, he knew her well enough to understand that she would be indifferent to such accolades. For Dr. Mey, the notion of heroism was tainted by a painful reality: what was the point of being a hero if one could not save the person they loved most? And now, barely a week after Arthur's tragic death, a treatment had been developed that could have spared him. Life, it seemed, had a cruel way of toying with the hearts of those who sought only to heal.