Eliora’s POVMidnight in a hospital is not silent. It is a symphony of artificial sounds—the rhythmic, mechanical sigh of the ventilation, the distant, muffled squeak of rubber soles on linoleum, and the constant, mocking beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor.I lay flat on my back, staring at the ceiling tiles. I had counted them three times already. Sixty-four full tiles, eight partial ones near the vent. They were white, speckled with grey, as cold and indifferent as the rest of this building. Every time I closed my eyes, the hallway scene replayed behind my eyelids. Kian’s face, inches from mine. The smell of cedar and winter. The way my body had hummed with a frantic, traitorous electricity.And then Zoey.The silence she had left behind was the loudest thing in the room. It felt like a phantom limb, a part of me that had been there for my entire life was suddenly gone, and I kept reaching for it, only to find nothing but cold air. My chest felt tight, a physical pressure centered
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