FLYNN P.O.V.
I blink my eyes open, the sterile scent of antiseptic invading my senses. Beeping machines surround me, their rhythmic sounds both comforting and haunting. What catches my breath is the figure lying fragile in the bed beside me, my sweet Ember. My heart clenches painfully when I notice the oxygen tube snakes around her face, delivering the lifeline she needs.
Suddenly, a flicker of movement on my head pulls my attention, and I see Ember’s eyes shoot open, wide with terror. My breath hitches.
“Ember, I need you to stay calm! You are safe here!” I shout, wishing I had more power to comfort her. The words feel heavy and useless against the panicked look on her face.
She jerks away, her body thrashing against the sheets, desperate to escape some unimaginable nightmare. I lunge
