Claire stepped inside her home, the familiar scent of lavender candles greeting her. Her mom was in the kitchen, humming softly as she set the table.

"Hey, Mom," Claire called out, dropping her bag by the door.

"Perfect timing, my love," her mom replied, peeking out from the kitchen. "Dinner’s ready. Go wash up and join us."

Claire nodded, heading to the bathroom to freshen up. When she returned to the dining room, her dad was already seated, reading the newspaper.

"How was college today?" her dad asked, folding the paper and looking at her with a warm smile.

"It was fine," Claire replied, taking her seat. "Same old lectures and assignments."

Her mom placed a bowl of soup in front of her, sitting down beside her. "You’ve been looking tired lately. Are you feeling okay?"

Claire hesitated, her spoon pausing mid-air. "I’m fine, Mom. Just… a little worn out, I guess."

Her dad exchanged a glance with her mom, concern flickering in his eyes. "Claire, we know you’ve been trying to act like everything’s normal, but you don’t have to hide how you’re feeling."

Claire sighed, setting her spoon down. "I’m not trying to hide anything. I just don’t want you two worrying all the time."

"That’s impossible," her mom said gently, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "You’re our daughter. Of course we’re going to worry."

Her dad nodded. "We’re proud of how strong you’ve been, Claire. But remember, it’s okay to lean on us when you need to."

Claire’s throat tightened, and she gave them a small smile. "Thanks, Dad. I’ll try to remember that."

They continued their meal, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. But even as they laughed about old family memories, Claire couldn’t shake the weight in her chest.

The Next Morning

Claire woke up to the soft chirping of birds outside her window. She glanced at the clock and realized she had plenty of time before her first class. Not wanting to bother Sophie for a ride, she decided to walk to college.

After a quick breakfast, she grabbed her bag and stepped outside. The morning air was crisp, and the sun peeked through the clouds, casting a golden glow on the quiet streets.She walked briskly, enjoying the rhythm of her steps, until a wave of dizziness hit her.

She stopped in her tracks, gripping a nearby lamppost as her vision blurred. Her breath quickened, and she shook her head, trying to shake off the haze.

"Not now," she whispered, but her legs wobbled beneath her.

Before she could call out or steady herself, her knees buckled, and she crumpled to the ground.

"Hey! Miss, are you alright?"

A man's urgent voice broke through the fog of her semi-consciousness. Strong hands caught her just before her head could hit the pavement.

"Stay with me," the voice commanded, calm but firm.

Claire’s head lolled slightly as she tried to open her eyes. Her lashes fluttered, but the world remained a blur.

"Can you hear me?" the man asked again, his tone sharper now, tinged with worry.

She managed a faint groan in response, her body feeling heavy and unresponsive.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath. He carefully shifted her, cradling her head and checking her pulse with practiced ease. "Pulse is weak," he murmured to himself.

"Hey, don’t pass out on me," he said, his voice softening. "You’re going to be okay."

Claire stirred slightly, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

"Alright, let’s get you off the ground," he said, adjusting his grip. With surprising gentleness, he lifted her into his arms, her head resting against his chest.

When Claire’s eyes finally fluttered open, she found herself lying on a bench under the shade of a tree. Her head throbbed, and her vision swam for a moment before it focused on a man crouching beside her.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and steady. "You’re awake."

Claire blinked, her gaze locking onto his piercing blue eyes.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his brows furrowed with concern.

"I..." She tried to speak but coughed instead.

"Easy," he said, holding out a water bottle. "Here, take a sip."

Claire hesitated before accepting it, her hands trembling slightly as she drank.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice hoarse.

"You scared me back there," the man admitted, his tone lighter now. "I thought you were going to crack your head open."

Claire managed a weak smile. "Sorry about that."

"Don’t apologize," he said firmly. "Are you feeling dizzy still? Any chest pain?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, just tired."

The man let out a relieved sigh. "Good. I’m Ethan Carter, by the way. I’m a doctor. You’re lucky I was passing by when you collapsed."

Claire’s eyes widened slightly. "You’re a doctor?"

"That’s right," he said, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "Now, do you have any idea why you fainted? Have you been feeling unwell recently?"

Claire hesitated, her fingers twisting nervously. "I… I have a condition. My doctor knows."

Ethan’s expression grew serious. "You need to let them know about this episode. Fainting isn’t something to ignore."

"I will," Claire said softly.

"Good," Ethan said, standing up. "Do you have someone I can call to pick you up?"

Claire shook her head. "No, I’ll be fine. I just need a minute."

Ethan didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. "Alright, but I’m not leaving until you’re steady enough to walk. And if you feel faint again, you call someone immediately, okay?"

"Okay," Claire agreed, her cheeks flushing under his intense gaze.

Ethan gave her one last, searching look before stepping back, his hands shoved into his pockets.

As he waited nearby, Claire couldn’t help but steal glances at him. There was something about his calm demeanor, the way he had cared for her without hesitation, that left her both comforted and unnerved.

"Ethan Carter," she whispered to herself, the name lingering in her mind like a strange melody.