დ Aidan დ
The world came back in fragments. Beeping. A steady hiss. White light that burned even through my closed eyelids. My mouth was dry, too dry, like sand had been packed in. My chest ached with each breath.
“Don’t move,” the voice was low, firm, and familiar. I pried my eyes open and found Ezra leaning over me, his hand braced on the rail of the bed. His tie was crooked. His jaw was tight. Relief flashed in his eyes and was gone just as quickly.
“Where the hell am I?” I croaked. My throat scraped the words raw.
“Hospital,” Ezra said. “You blacked out and hit your head,” I blinked up at the ceiling tiles, each one sharp and identical, and my mind scrambled.
Car. Oil. Screech of metal. Glass shattering.
I remembered crawling out. I remembered getting away from the car. I remem
