When Janice woke again, she was alone in a sterile, snow-white room. The sharp scent of disinfectant stung her nose, and a splitting headache made her groan as she tried to sit up. Before she could speak, a familiar voice called out.
"You're awake!" Charles hurried to her bedside, his heart hammering. Seeing her unconscious just moments ago had nearly stopped it entirely.
"Charles… where am I?" Janice's eyes widened in panic. She grabbed his hands, trembling. "What about Manfred? How did I end up here? How long was I asleep?"
Charles' face darkened, and his sudden silence made her even more anxious.
"Speak to me! Where is Manfred? He can't be…" Memories of the plane crash surged through her, and tears streamed down her face, tangled in stray strands of hair. She felt fragile, helpless, overwhelmed by guilt for not being there when he needed her.
