Celeste Su's eyes fluttered open to muted pastel walls and the scent of antiseptic laced with eucalyptus. She lay on a narrow cot in a sunlit room—pillows propped high, gauze on her collarbone where the diamond clasp once bit. Outside, gulls wheeled over a distant harbor.
“Ms. Su?" A soft voice. Dr. Navarro stepped into view, clipboard in hand. Beside him, a pale-faced nurse hovered.
Celeste blinked. “Where am I?"
Dr. Navarro offered a reassuring smile. “A private rehabilitation clinic. Fully funded by Mr. Lu's trust." He paused. “You were unconscious for three days. The trauma—both physical and neurological—required careful monitoring."
She sat up, wincing as her muscles protested. “Adrian?"
He hesitated. “He… remains in medically induced coma. His mind is recovering from the neural
