Elena
I woke to a quiet that felt padded, as if the world had wrapped itself in cotton and decided to move more gently for my sake. Hospital quiet is never truly silent, there are beeps and distant carts and murmured voices that rise and fall like tides but this was a softer version of it, the kind that lets you believe you are safe enough to sleep again.
For a few seconds, I didn't remember where I was.
Then my body reminded me.
There was the faint tug at my arm where the IV had been secured, the dull ache behind my eyes, the strange heaviness in my limbs that felt less like pain and more like gravity having a personal conversation with me. I shifted slightly and the sheet whispered. The scent of antiseptic and something faintly floral probably soap filled my nose.
And then I remembered everything at once.
The office.
The dizziness.
The floor rushing up too fast.
Justin's face, white, terrified, calling my name like it was an anchor.
And then… the test.
