Third person POV
The world was too bright.
Too quiet.
Too clean.
Sonia woke to the hum of machines and the steady rhythm of a heart monitor. For a long, disoriented moment, she couldn’t tell if she was still dreaming. The ceiling above her was sterile white, and a curtain swayed faintly beside the bed. She could taste metal on her tongue. Her throat ached.
Then came the voice, low, hesitant, heartbreakingly familiar.
“Sonia?”
She turned toward the sound.
Alexander was there, half-shadowed in the morning light. His shirt was wrinkled, his jaw dark with stubble, and the eyes that met hers looked nothing like the ones she remembered. They were tired. Haunted.
Her voice cracked when she tried to speak. “What happened?”
Alexander hesitated, then reached out and adjusted the IV line at
