Landon didn’t press her further. Instead, he stood slowly and extended a hand.“Come on,” he said, his voice gentler now. “You need rest.”Daphne stared at his hand, stubbornness flickering in her eyes, but she didn’t argue. She took it, and he helped her up with a careful grip, mindful of her injuries. She leaned into him without meaning to, her strength slipping more than she cared to admit.He led her down a narrow hallway, the wooden floor creaking softly beneath their steps. At the end was a small bedroom, sparsely furnished with a simple bed, a dresser, and thick, heavy curtains drawn tight across the window. A faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, from a sachet tucked between the pillows.Landon pushed the door open and guided her inside.“You’ll be safe here,” he murmured. “Clean sheets, warm blankets. You’ll sleep better than you have in weeks.”“I don’t sleep well anywhere,” Daphne muttered, wincing as she sat on the edge of the bed.He knelt again, checking the blood
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