Ava's POV
I woke up the next day. The room smelled sterile.
I realized I was in the hospital. I had not died.
They found me too early and dragged me back from the edge.
What a bitter joke. How cruel could life be?
Then I heard a voice breaking apart.
“Ava, what are you doing?” I turned weakly.
It was Nora. She sat at my bedside, crying. Her eyes were swollen red, tears streaking down her face.
I hadn’t seen her cry like that in five years, not since the last time my world collapsed and I was arrested.
Something in my chest twisted. I lifted a trembling hand and touched her head, brushing through her hair like I used to when we were younger.
“Nora…” My voice barely existed. “I’m tired.”
It was the truest thing I’d ever said. I was not tired in body, I was tired in soul and bone.
