The first thing Tessa became aware of was the sound. Not just the usual sterile beeps of the machines, not the shuffling footsteps of nurses down the corridor, but breathing. Low. Uneven. Close.
Her eyelids fluttered against the weight pressing them down. When she forced them open, the white light overhead cut sharp lines into her vision. Everything blurred at first, the edges of the room, the sterile walls, the faint antiseptic sting in the air.
Then the shape beside her came into focus.
Raymond.
His broad shoulders hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees, her hand cradled between both of his as though it were something fragile that might vanish if he let go. His thumb traced restless circles over her knuckles, not smooth, not charming but nervous. The sight unsettled her.
“
