Jade’s POV
Sunlight streamed weakly through the curtains, casting gold dust across the floor of my small bedroom. I blinked up at the ceiling, groggy from sleep and sore in places I didn’t know could hurt.
I was home.
Not the sterile white sheets of the infirmary, not the hum of medical machines or quiet murmurs of nurses. Home. Where the mattress was lumpy, the air smelled faintly of pinewood, and my bookshelf leaned ever so slightly to the left.
I turned my head carefully, the bandage still tight around my temple.
My mom had fussed the moment the doctor approved my discharge. She’d filled my room with warm broth, spare blankets, and unsolicited back rubs. Dad had carried me inside like I was made of glass. I was grateful, but a small part of me just wanted to pretend the world hadn’
