AMARA POV
I don’t know how many hours passed.
Time felt useless in this place, thick, slow, suffocating. My body ached like it had been beaten and stitched back together poorly. A female doctor had come in earlier, her movements quick and detached, like she didn’t want to stay longer than necessary. She cleaned my bruises without meeting my eyes. No comfort. No reassurance. Just sterile hands and silence.
After she left, the room became a grave.
The only other person who came in was a maid with a tray of breakfast. She placed it down without a word, her hands trembling slightly. She didn’t look at me either. It was like everyone here was afraid…afraid of the walls, afraid of the air, afraid of me being seen talking to.
That scared me more than anything.
I had barely touched the food
