《Starlight in the Cracks》

Chapter 1: First Glimpse of Light In the spring of 2018, on an ordinary afternoon, sunlight streamed through the windows of the hospital building, casting mottled shadows on the ground. In the emergency room, nurses hurried through the corridors, their footsteps quick. The air was filled with the scent of disinfectant, occasionally mingling with the aroma of coffee from the machine. Alex stood on the edge of the rooftop, the wind whistling past his ears. He looked up at the blue sky and white clouds, but his heart was filled with an indescribable restlessness. Three days ago, on a rainy night, the company had suddenly announced layoffs, catching him off guard. Life after losing his job had turned into an endless night, each day a torment. Alex hung up his father's call, the screen showing "23 missed calls." His colleague, Xiao Wang, glanced at the caller ID and exclaimed, "Your dad is Chairman Chen of Hengyuan Group?" Alex sneered, "In his eyes, I'm just a number on the financial report." "Alex, come down!" came the anxious voice of Xiao Wang from behind, "You'll get hurt!" But Alex didn't move. His gaze remained fixed on the distant city skyline, where everything he had once fought for—his suited colleagues, the bustling CBD, the vibrant nights—now seemed like a mirage. A sudden dizziness washed over him, and Alex felt his vision darken. Alex's consciousness briefly returned during the fall, his blurred vision catching a glimpse of the rusted awning below—a curved canopy supported by a few tilted steel frames, its edges marked by years of rain. His body slammed into the canopy, the metal frame emitting a piercing screech, the shattered plastic fragments scattering like snowflakes. The plastic shards grazed his cheek, leaving a burning pain. As he fell, the smell of disinfectant was suddenly replaced by the metallic tang of rusted rain. The wind tore at his ears, the weightlessness reminding him of the moment when he was seven, yanked off a merry-go-round by his father—the same dizziness, the same suffocation. The rusted smell of the awning suddenly awakened a memory from a rainy night: his mother rushing him into the emergency room with a high fever, the nurse's white skirt brushing against his burning forehead. The violent impact sent a searing pain through his ribs, but it also made him instinctively curl into a ball, rolling toward the edge of the canopy... Before losing consciousness completely, he seemed to see a white skirt, like a net woven from moonlight, blooming in his shattered vision. The scent of disinfectant and jasmine intertwined into a strange salvation, and for a moment, he thought he had fallen into a cloud—until the tearing pain in his ribs reminded him that it was not an angel who had caught him, but a blood-stained mortal. Alex's body slammed heavily onto the canopy, the metal frame emitting a piercing screech. Luna, hearing the noise, quickly directed her colleagues to set up a stretcher, catching him just as he rolled off the edge. The corner of Luna's white skirt was stained with blood. While preparing medication, Luna used a cotton swab dipped in iodine to sketch the silhouette of a plane tree outside the window on the edge of a medical record, only to hurriedly close the notebook when the head nurse's footsteps approached. When he opened his eyes again, he was lying in a hospital bed. The surroundings were unfamiliar and quiet, with only the sound of the IV drip ticking away. "Sir, you're awake?" a gentle voice asked. Alex turned his head and saw an angelic face—long blonde hair, large blue eyes that seemed to speak, and a warm smile at the corner of her mouth. She wore a white nurse's uniform, her name tag reading "Luna." "What... happened?" Alex struggled to recall, his voice hoarse. "You fell from the rooftop," Luna's voice was as soft as a spring breeze, "But you're fine now, you just need to rest." Alex was stunned. He clearly remembered standing on the edge of the rooftop, wanting to end it all, but the sensation of falling felt so real, yet like a hallucination. "You... saved me?" he stared at Luna's name tag, which read "Luna." Luna smiled slightly, "I'm a nurse here, I happened to be passing by. When you fell, I instinctively rushed over." Alex suddenly remembered the figure he saw in his blurred consciousness—it was this gentle girl before him. Her exact movements, her expression, the faint scent of jasmine on her—everything was incredibly clear. "Thank you," he said softly, a warm feeling rising in his heart. Luna sat on the chair beside the bed, her slender fingers gently flipping through the medical record in her hands. Traces of paint lingered in her nail beds—leftover from staying up late to paint watercolors last night. Since her mother's death, she had been forced to give up art school, but she never stopped creating in secret during the night. "You need to rest for a while, I'll help you contact your family." Alex hesitated, "Could you... not tell them? I don't want to worry them." Luna's eyes lit up, "Why?" "I just don't want to burden them," Alex looked out the window, "I have no way out." Luna sighed softly, "Everyone has their own difficulties, but I believe you'll get better." Her voice was like a kind of comfort, making Alex feel an inexplicable sense of calm. Perhaps it was because she was so gentle, or because there was always a hint of understanding in her eyes, making this unfamiliar city feel a bit warmer. "By the way, what's your phone number?" Luna suddenly asked, "I need to contact your family." Alex was startled, "Why do you need to contact them?" "Because you're my patient," Luna smiled slightly, "Even though you don't want to worry them, I still suggest you let them know." Alex looked into her determined eyes and finally relented, writing the number on the medical record and handing it to her.