Maya's consciousness returns slowly, like wading through thick molasses. Her limbs feel heavy, her thoughts sluggish, and the sterile scent of sedatives still lingers in her nose.
Her head pounds with a dull, insistent ache that makes even the soft morning light filtering through the curtains feel like needles in her eyes. She groans and turns her face into the pillow, trying to piece together fragments of memory through the fog still clinging to her mind.
Then it hits her—
Flashes of desperate screaming.
Of being dragged away by unfamiliar hands.
Of the overwhelming need to *move*, to *run*, to *fight*—to get to her sons.
The memories crash over her like ice water.
**Flashback**
"Let me out!" Maya’s voice is hoarse from hours of screaming, her fists pounding against the lo
