Golden Melody (Editing)

Chapter 42

Chapter 42 – New Year's Resolutions

The clock ticked steadily toward midnight.

Outside, firecrackers echoed across the capital city like distant thunder.

Everywhere else, people were celebrating. The night sky burst into color, houses pulsed with music, and families gathered together in warmth and laughter.

But in Room 001 of Wayne Memorial Hospital, it was quiet.

Miexha lay curled beneath pastel blue sheets, wrapped like a burrito in two layers of blankets.

The soft hum of the air conditioner and the steady beep of her monitor were her only companions.

A television mounted on the wall played a New Year's countdown concert. The sound was muted.

She sniffled—not because she was sick again (though technically she was) but because she was annoyed.

Annoyed at her body. Annoyed at her phone.

And especially annoyed at her overprotective family.

They had confiscated her phone earlier, all because Madam Lirra hadn't shown up, and Miexha had stayed outside in the garden playing Candy Crush until seven in the evening.

Apparently, that qualified as reckless behavior. Now she was spending New Year's Eve alone.

In a hospital.

"I was winning, okay?" she muttered to the empty room, cheeks puffed in protest. "And it wasn't even that cold... much."

Her phone was probably sulking somewhere in a locked drawer at the nurses' station.

Room 001 had practically been her second bedroom since birth.

The nurses here knew her routines better than her own parents.

Once she got better—if that mythical "better" ever arrived—she'd finally move into her official third bedroom.

At the Dom Mansion.

She sighed into her blanket.

Third bedroom.

A soft knock tapped at the door.

Nurse Juliet peeked inside, holding a small plate of grapes and a tiny paper horn.

"Happy New Year, Miexha," she said warmly. "Only one minute left. Ready to welcome the year?"

Miexha pushed herself up slowly, trying to look less grumpy. She accepted the grapes and the horn.

"Do I get my phone back if I promise to wear socks?"

"Nice try," the nurse replied sweetly. "Eat your grapes."

Miexha pouted but obediently popped one into her mouth.

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Far north, in the snow-laced hills of the capital's residential district, stood the minimalist Wov residence.

Inside, everything was black, white, or some extremely confusing shade of gray.

Zatariel sat cross-legged on a plush white rug in the living room. The fireplace flickered behind him, throwing warm light across the polished floors.

On the couch, his father Zaren Wov reclined with a mug of ginger tea, looking perfectly relaxed. Beside him, Anita cradled their youngest daughter, Zadriana, who bounced excitedly in her lap.

At the other end of the couch, Margery, the eldest sibling, scrolled through photos of fireworks on her phone while sipping soda.

"Zat," Anita said, glancing at her only son. "You promised to read your New Year's resolutions out loud this year."