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Valerie had disappeared into thin air. She hadn't come home or gone to the hospital this morning to treat her patients.
Darya was biting her nails, Valerie's disappearing being the only thing on her mind. Her grandmother shrugged her shoulders as she stood beside her. "She's probably just by the ocean again. Wouldn't be the first time she lost track of time."
She set a layer of seaweed on the bruised shoulder of the patient in front of them. The patient immediately quieted their whimpers.
Midsummer Night, the shortest night of the year, was quickly approaching, and Darya's cousin and a few patients had decided to celebrate it by putting up decorations all around the hospital. Blue, gold and white ribbons were placed everywhere; butterflies made by paper and a dash of magic flew in the air; sunflowers and flower crowns stood beside lit candles. The sun's warmth had given the Swans more strength to heal, sharing its wealth, and Darya felt her soul and heart glow.
Honey cake and pie were being baked, and a pair of younger patients were waiting outside the kitchen doors. She slipped past them and entered the large room.
Her aunt, who worked at the kitchen, greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. There were a great lot of chefs around her. After the Swans had begun assisting at St. Mungo's, they had convinced the people working there to hire witches and wizards, not house-elves, to make the food for the patients.
When her aunt had turned around, Darya managed to steal a plate with honey cake without her noticing. Hiding it behind her back, she made her way out again and set off toward the staircase.
Twisting the doorknob to the yellow door on floor three, she smiled wide. "Good morning, Amalia," she said gently.
However, her smile disappeared quickly. She bit the inside of her cheeks to keep quiet. Amalia was not alone. Beside her bed sat Riddle. Both of them were grinning, but his smile did not reach his eyes.
"Good morning, Darya," he said, turning to her.
Quickly, she put her plate aside. "You can't be in here, Mr. Riddle."
"Oh, don't mind me," he said with his sugar-sweet tone. "I was just visiting Amalia."
A horrible look spread on his face. He knew her patient's name. He had managed to get into her room. He must have given her a gift, for a new teddy bear was laying on her chest. Amalia's trust was not hard to earn, and it was obvious that Riddle wanted it. Why did he want it?
"Mr. Riddle..."
He shot out of his chair. "Alright."
A steady hand reached out to ruffle Amalia's hair, and the young girl giggled. Darya's stomach was doing somersaults. He could have strangled her right there. She knew he had the strength to do it. He probably wouldn't regret killing a vulnerable child.
