Tabitha’s POV
I wake to the cold biting into my skin. The concrete floor beneath me feels like ice, and the damp air makes every breath feel heavy, like I’m breathing through wet cloth. My body aches all over—my wrists, my arms, my legs. Everything is a blur of pain and exhaustion.
I don’t know where I am. It’s different from the last place—the air smells different, the light is dimmer, and there’s a strange sense of silence that feels almost oppressive, like the walls themselves are holding their breath.
I shift slightly, and a sharp pain lances through my abdomen. It takes me a moment to remember what happened—the blood, the miscarriage. The grief is immediate, heavy, settling over me like a dark cloud. I try to push the pain down, but it’s there, a constant reminder of what I’ve los
