The beeping of machines was the first sound Stella heard.
Then the sterile scent of antiseptic. A soft murmur. Rain tapping against glass.
She opened her eyes.
A nurse looked up from a chart. “Miss Hart? Can you hear me?"
Stella blinked. “Where…?"
“You're in Greenridge Memorial. You've been unconscious for two days. Don't move too fast."
“Why am I here?"
The nurse hesitated. “You had an accident. Fell into Moonstone Lake."
“I don't remember that," Stella murmured.
“What do you remember?"
Stella frowned. “A piano. A woman with white hair. Someone… yelling. Then nothing."
---
Outside the ICU glass wall, Joseph watched.
He heard every word.
His hands clenched at his sides as the doctor confirmed it: retrograde amnesia. Likely trauma-induced. Unclear how much would return—or when
