ELENA
"I’m strong enough to travel," I said.
The words came out firmer than I expected. My voice still felt like it didn’t quite belong to me—too quiet, too dry—but I forced strength into it anyway.
My mother narrowed her eyes at me across the hospital room, arms folded, posture stiff with tension. “Elena, you were unconscious less than forty-eight hours ago,” she said sharply.
“I’m fine now,” I said, lifting my chin.
“You’re not,” she said again, her voice tight, almost clipped.
Erin stood silently by the door, already holding my discharge papers. She didn’t interrupt. Smart woman.
“I need to go home,” I said, turning to both of them. “To Moonstone. I need to be with Aiden. I need... space.”
“You need rest,” my mother said, her tone hardening.
“I’ll rest when I’m back where I bel
