Awakening

The sterile scent of the hospital room drifted into my consciousness like a cold, unwelcome tide. It wrapped itself around me, sharp and clinical, forcing my eyelids to flutter open against the brightness of the fluorescent lights overhead. Everything felt foreign, unreal—the faint hum of machines, the faint whisper of footsteps outside my door, and the distant murmur of voices echoing through the halls. I lay still, my body heavy and uncooperative, as if wrapped in a thick fog that refused to lift.

It was a long moment before I could even attempt to move, my limbs aching and unfamiliar under the weight of my own skin. A faint sting pulsed deep in my ribs, sharp enough to remind me that I was alive but broken. Slowly, I blinked again, taking in my surroundings—the pale green walls, the neatly made hospital bed, and the pale blue curtains pulled slightly to the side. And then I saw them.

Lucas and Jaxon.

Lucas sat by my bedside, his usual composed expression shattered by the raw vulnerability I saw reflected in his red-rimmed eyes. A few tears clung stubbornly to his lashes, and his lower lip trembled faintly, betraying the strength he usually wore like armor. Jaxon stood silently behind him, arms crossed, his usually vibrant ocean-blue eyes now shadowed by dark circles, exhaustion written deeply into the furrow of his brow. He looked fierce and protective, the kind of quiet storm that promised he wouldn’t let anything hurt me again.

Their presence stirred a cocktail of emotions inside me—comfort and shame, relief and fear. I wanted to speak, to break the unbearable silence that hung heavy between us. But when I tried, my throat was raw and scratchy, the mere act of breathing a dull ache through my broken ribs.

“Hey,” Lucas whispered gently, his fingers reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re awake. We’ve been waiting for you.”

The softness of his voice was the only thing grounding me, the fragile thread pulling me back from the edge of unconsciousness.

I tried to focus, to make sense of the haze swirling in my mind. “What… happened?” The words were barely audible, cracked and fragile.

Jaxon took a step closer, his voice low and steady but heavy with anger. “You were attacked, Avery. Savannah and her friends... they did something unforgivable. It’s worse than any of us imagined.”

The sharp pain in my chest deepened as I tried to process the weight of his words. I forced myself to swallow, the effort agonizing, and managed to whisper, “How bad… how bad is it?”

Lucas’s eyes dropped to the floor, his voice breaking despite his attempt to remain calm. “The doctors said you have broken ribs—multiple fractures. Your arm is fractured, and... there are burn marks. From cigarettes.” His voice faltered, and he swallowed hard. “They’re treating you, but it’s a long road ahead. It’s a miracle you made it through.”

Tears welled up, blurring the edges of the room as the crushing reality finally settled over me. My body, my mind, my heart—it all felt shattered, fragile beyond repair.

“Ethan…” The name escaped my lips as a whispered plea, the last thread to a family I wasn’t sure still existed for me.

Before either of them could answer, the door opened quietly, and Ethan stepped inside, followed by a doctor carrying a clipboard. His face was pale and tight with something I couldn’t yet name—guilt, maybe, or shock. He paused as his eyes landed on me, the daughter he had so easily overlooked, now broken and barely holding on.

The doctor’s voice was calm but clinical as he recited my injuries and the extent of the trauma: broken ribs, fractured arm, and burns. But Ethan’s gaze was fixed on me, wide and uncomprehending. He didn’t yet realize the depth of the torment I had endured—the whispered insults, the betrayal, the violence. Not yet.

Lucas cleared his throat, stepping slightly forward. “The police want to speak with you, Avery. About the attack.”

I nodded slowly, fatigue weighing heavy in my limbs, but my thoughts immediately went to the emptiness I felt in my chest. “Where are Mom and Dad?” I asked, voice trembling.

Jaxon’s face darkened, the fierce protectiveness flaring in his eyes. “They haven’t come. They don’t seem to care.”

That stab of abandonment was sharper than any physical wound. My parents had turned their backs on me, leaving me alone to face the fallout.

Despite everything, in that sterile hospital room, surrounded by the few who truly cared, I felt a flicker of something fragile and new—a hope that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as invisible as I thought.

Lucas reached for my hand, his grip gentle but unyielding. “We’ve got you, Avery. We’re not going anywhere.”

Jaxon’s eyes softened as he looked down at me, and for the first time since I woke, I believed it.

The battle was far from over, but I wasn’t alone