Alan's POV:
The garden's too damn perfect. Every rosebush pruned just so, every pebble on the path arranged like it's been placed by tweezers. It makes my skin crawl.
I shove my hands deeper into my pockets as I trudge behind Dr. Elara, trying not to look at her flowing skirt or the way her silver hair catches the sunlight. She's talking, something about the healing power of nature, but I'm barely listening. My eyes dart around, taking in every exit, every possible escape route. Old habits.
"How are you feeling, Alan?" Dr. Elara's voice breaks through my thoughts. She's stopped walking and is studying me with those piercing blue eyes.
I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. "Fine, I guess." My voice comes out rougher than I intended.
She smiles, all warmth and understanding. It makes me want
