I woke up in my bed, groggy and disoriented. The room was dim, with only the faint glow of streetlights seeping through the curtains. My head throbbed lightly, and for a moment, I couldn’t piece together where I was or how I had gotten here.
The bed was familiar, soft and warm, but something about it felt wrong. I blinked against the dim light, sitting up slowly, and that’s when the realization hit me. I was home. But how? I didn’t remember leaving the hospital. The last thing I remembered was sitting beside Leah’s bed, feeling the exhaustion pull at me. I must’ve fallen asleep, but waking up here—*in my bed*—didn’t make sense.
My heart picked up speed as I glanced around the room. Everything looked the same, but it felt foreign, like I didn’t belong here. And then, as I shifted beneath
