A week had passed since the terrible day when everything came to light.

The luxury hospital suite where Thor was staying was silent and spacious, equipped with every comfort—a wall-mounted television, soft curtains, and adjustable lighting. Yet to him, it felt like a cage. He was impatient, irritable, tired of being trapped between sterile walls.

Celina had spent every single day by his side, leaving only at night—and even then, reluctantly—to rest. When she did go home, she left him in the care of a nurse, making sure he was never unattended. That morning, she was already beside him when the sun rose.

Thor sighed. The swelling on his face had faded; the bruises were lighter now thanks to time and medical care. He wore a light brace on his leg and used a walker for short distances—with the nurse’s help. But at that moment, he wanted only one thing: Celina.

The television played a romantic movie, but Thor wasn’t paying attention. Celina was lying beside him, her body reclined lightly a