The morning after the funeral arrangements were finalized, the hospital room felt even quieter than before.
Quiet in the kind of way that made every small sound stand out.
The ticking of the clock on the wall.
The slow beeping of the monitor beside my bed.
The faint hum of the air vent above the door.
I sat up in bed, staring at the blanket folded across my lap.
My body was healing faster than my mind.
The bruises along my ribs still hurt when I moved, but the doctors kept telling me I was lucky.
Lucky.
The word made my chest tighten every time I heard it.
The door opened softly.
A woman stepped inside carrying a thin stack of folders.
She wasn’t a nurse. Her clothes were too formal. Gray suit. Clean lines. Hair tied neatly behind her head.
“Jackie?” she said.
I nodded slowly
