EMMALINE
I wake to the sound of a slow, steady beeping.
It’s faint at first, buried under the heaviness pressing down on me, but then it grows louder, more insistent, matching the dull throb in my skull. My eyes feel glued shut, and when I finally force them open, I instantly flinch.
The light is blinding.
Everything around me is white. The walls, the ceiling, the sheets tucked neatly under my body. It smells faintly of disinfectant and something sharp that stings the back of my throat.
Oh goddess.
I’m in a hospital.
Panic flutters in my chest, quick and restless. How the hell did I end up here this time?
I squeeze my eyes shut again, breathing in slowly, trying to chase the scattered pieces of my memory. Breakfast. Sitting with Alexander and Nicholas. The warmth of coffee. His sta
