Elena’s POV:
Time had lost all meaning in the hospital. Days blurred together, slipping through my fingers like sand. I had no idea how long I had been lying in this bed, trapped in a cycle of waiting—waiting for pain to subside, waiting for movement to return, waiting for something to change.
But today felt different.
As my eyes fluttered open, the sterile white ceiling above me came into focus. I stretched out of habit, expecting the usual stiffness—until I realized something. My hand had moved.
I blinked in shock and did it again. My fingers curled, then straightened. My wrist twisted. I gasped, my heart hammering. Was I dreaming?
Before I could fully process it, the door swung open, and Rachael strode in, carrying a flask of what I assumed was my meal. She looked tired bu
