Scarlett’s POV
Recovery wasn’t graceful.
It was slow, aching, and humiliating.
There were days I couldn’t walk without assistance. Nights I woke up screaming because the headlights were still in my head. And mornings I sat in silence, staring at my trembling hands, wondering what had been in that damn box.
The hospital felt like a prison, white walls, synthetic air, the constant hum of machines that never slept. I wanted to scream, but the painkillers stole my fire, and the grief stole my words.
But Jasper…
Jasper surprised me.
At first, he showed up out of obligation. At least, that’s what I told myself. He brought flowers, books, food I barely touched. Sat beside my bed with furrowed brows and a phone in his hand, always multitasking, always distant.
Until he wasn’t.
The change
