PEARL STIRS SLOWLY, THE SENSATION of waking up almost foreign to her. At first, everything feels numb—like she’s been suspended in time. She doesn’t know how long she’s been out, but she feels... different. The heaviness that had pressed down on her chest before is gone, replaced by a dull ache in her stomach that reminds her that something isn’t right, that something happened.
The light in the room is soft, dimmed for the night, casting long shadows against the walls. The beeping of the machines beside her is a constant rhythm in the quiet, a reminder that she’s alive, that she’s still here.
Her eyes flutter open, slow at first, then faster, as her surroundings come into focus. She’s in a hospital room—fancy, clean, sterile. The soft hum of the air conditioning mixes with the distant so
