The light didn't crawl into my eyes; it stabbed them. It was a sterile, harsh, fluorescent white that smelled of cheap pine disinfectant and old blood. I tried to lift my hands to shield my face, but a sharp, burning pulling sensation in the crook of my left elbow held me down. A clear plastic tube was taped to my skin, feeding a slow, cold drip of saline into my collapsed veins.
"Don't move too fast, sister. You’ll pull the needle out," a voice said from the shadows near the foot of the iron bed.
It was a man's voice. Low, steady, and carrying the exhaustion of someone who lived his life in twelve hour shifts. He stepped into the light, rubbing the back of his neck. He was wearing a faded green scrub top, his dark skin smudged with weariness under his eyes. He looked human. He looked li
