The ceiling was a blur of white, flickering faintly with the hum of overhead lights. Ryan blinked once. Then again. His eyes focused, slowly adjusting to the sterile brightness around him.
His body ached, not the sharp kind of pain, but the heavy, dragging kind, like gravity itself, was stronger today. His lips were dry. His throat was sore. But when he turned his head and saw her, Sienna face off with her sister, arms folded, eyes red from exhaustion, something in his chest lifted.
He asked quietly, “What’s going on here?”
Sienna’s head shot to her side. Her eyes widened. “Ryan?”
He tried to sit up, but she was already at his side, gently pressing him back down. “Hey—don’t move. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
He let out a shaky breath. “Where the f**k am I?”
“Hospital,” she said softly,
