[Hazel]
Sunlight poured in like warm honey through the sheer white curtains, spilling across the floor in golden puddles. Dust motes floated lazily in the morning air, dancing in and out of the light. The room, so silent and still, felt like it belonged to someone else’s life—one that didn’t involve emergency interventions, salt-soaked soup, or pages of unsolicited self-affirmation.
Beneath the silk coverlet, I stretched gingerly. My limbs were stiff, sore in places I didn’t remember hitting, but the vertigo from yesterday had softened into something manageable. Dull. Background noise. I could breathe without bracing myself.
Padding barefoot to the door, I nudged it open—and froze halfway through the threshold.
Elijah stood in the center of the living room, framed by the soft morning l
