Chapter 3 - Hospital Hopes and Disappointments

Miles away, in the sterile quiet of a hospital room, Myra lay, a fragile figure against the stark white sheets. The lingering aches from her accident were a constant, dull throb, making even the slightest movement an effort. Her friend, Eva, sat patiently by her bedside, a picture of worried solicitude, gently coaxing Myra to eat the unappetizing meal placed before her. The aroma of bland, boiled vegetables and plain broth filled the air – a diet strictly enforced by the doctors given her recent injuries. Myra, a self-proclaimed and unapologetic picky eater, wrinkled her nose in disgust. Her usual vibrant diet of rich flavors and exotic spices was a distant memory, replaced by this insipid fare that offered no comfort or pleasure. "I can't," she murmured, turning her head away from the spoon Eva offered. "It tastes like cardboard." Eva, however, was persistent, her voice soft but firm. "Myra, you need to eat. The doctor said it's important for your recovery." Reluctantly, Myra took a few small, almost imperceptible bites, each swallow feeling like a monumental effort. Her gaze then shifted to Aria, who occupied the bed beside her, a shared casualty of the previous day's unforeseen events. Aria, looking equally restless, broke the silence. "Eva, when can I get discharged?" she asked, her voice laced with an eagerness to escape the confines of the hospital. Eva sighed, a long, drawn-out sound that hinted at a mixture of sympathy and weariness. "Oh, maybe tomorrow," she replied, trying to inject a note of optimism into her voice. "Just relax, you know, the doctor here is very handsome." The attempt at lightheartedness hung in the air, a fragile attempt to lift the spirits of her two injured friends, offering a momentary reprieve from the somber reality of their situation.