The monotonous beeping of machines and the faint scent of antiseptic greeted Seth as his eyes flickered open. For a moment, the world blurred into hazy white. The ceiling above him was unfamiliar, and the dull ache in his ribs reminded him that he wasn’t waking from just another dream but from a brutal brush with death.
It took a moment before he saw her. Viola.
Her head was resting on the side of the hospital bed, her auburn hair spilling across the sheets like a comforting flame. She was asleep, one hand loosely holding his. Despite the sting in his side and the fog still thick in his mind, Seth felt his warmth spread through him. The sight of her curled beside him—so devoted, so present—reminded him that he made the right choice.
Not Rashel. Not her constant weak sobbing that mostly
