**SASHA**
I wake slowly, not because the heat claws me out of sleep this time, but because my body finally feels like it belongs to me again, heavy and exhausted in a way that is painful but honest. The room is dim, curtains drawn tight, the air cool enough that I pull the blanket higher without flinching, and the absence of that relentless burning feels unreal, like waking after a storm to find the ground still standing.
My throat is dry, my muscles ache, and my head feels thick, but the heat has loosened its grip, retreating into something dull and manageable instead of all-consuming. I lie there for a few minutes, breathing carefully, waiting for the surge that has become routine, but it never comes, and the realisation lands softly but firmly.
It’s over.
Not gone entirely, because
