"Pardon me, young lady, but how old are you?" Michael asked, his tone polite.
Anita chuckled softly, her voice brighter now. "I'm seventeen this year. Everyone said I wouldn't make it past sixteen, but thanks to my brother's care, I've survived."
Michael nodded, noting her small stature. The signs of her prolonged illness were undeniable. Calling Julian closer, Michael turned his attention back to Anita.
"Anita, don't worry. I believe I can heal you," he said, his voice steady and reassuring.
Anita glanced at Julian, her curiosity piqued. His gentle brown eyes and scholarly demeanor matched the ideal she had imagined for her savior. Though unmoved by Michael's celestial beauty, her cheeks flushed slightly as she studied Julian.
Noticing this, Michael subtly glanced at Julian and smiled. The budding affection between them had not escaped his notice. Perhaps an unexpected romance could blossom, he thought.
