The Heir's Burden
The light was the first thing he noticed. It wasn't the soft gray of dawn or the warm glow of a lamp. It was harsh, fluorescent, the kind of light that seemed to have no source, that came from everywhere at once and left no shadows to hide in. It pressed against his closed eyelids, a persistent, insistent presence that refused to be ignored. Cole tried to open his eyes. The lids felt heavy, weighted down by something he couldn't identify. He forced them open, and the light hit him like a physical blow, sending a spike of pain through his skull. He squeezed them shut again, his jaw tight, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The air was cold and clean, carrying a faint chemical smell that he recognized but couldn't name. Antiseptic. It was antiseptic, the same smell that had haunted hospit
- Writer
