103. Uniforms didn’t mean trust...

ELOWEN

Pain woke me again.

Not the sharp, screaming kind that stole breath in an instant, but the deep, buried ache that sat inside my bones like something had cracked me open and forgotten to put me back together properly.

It pulsed slowly through my ribs, crawled up my spine, throbbed behind my eyes until it made the world feel heavy and distant.

I lay still, afraid to move, staring right at the ceiling above me…

The hospital room was dim, washed in that pale, bluish light that came just before dawn. The kind of light that made everything feel unreal, like the world was holding its breath.

The machines beside my bed hummed softly, their rhythm steady, almost hypnotic. Too quiet actually, creating a rhythm of elution.

No footsteps passed the door. No hushed voices from the hallway. No distant cries, or laughter, no carts rolling, no nurses whispering to one another the way they usually did during night shifts…

Just silence.

I swallowed slowly, my throat felt dry, my tongue felt he