Estelle didn't remember falling asleep. But she remembered the moment she lost control. And when she opened her eyes, she knew instantly, this wasn't a hospital she had chosen.
The soft hum of the machines attached to her, and the faint scent of antiseptic, clung to the air, making the space feel sterile and sealed off.
Her mind wouldn't stop working. Every thought circled back to the same question. Where am I?
She listened, every one of her senses heightened, straining past the silence, hoping for something. A voice. A distant sound. Anything that might give her a clue.
But she got nothing, just the quiet.
Then she turned sharply, freezing. The sound of footsteps filled the air. Faint at first, then clearer.
Her eyes snapped to the door, her pulse quickening beneath her skin. Her fingers tightened slightly against the sheets as she held her breath, waiting. Hoping.
Please, let it be him.
The handle turned, and the door creaked open.
