>Mallory
I woke up in the same white room, my body heavy. It feels like there's not enough rest that would make the dizziness disappear. I sighed and stared at the ceiling, counting cracks that probably weren't really there, blinking slowly as the room tilted every time I breathed too deep.
The door slid open without a knock.
I didn't even have to look.
Only one person I knew walked into places like she owned them. My husband would often say something before entering unless I looked visibly asleep.
"I swear," my Mara's voice rang, sharp and tight with barely contained panic, "if anyone tells me to 'calm down' one more time, I'm buying this hospital and firing them."
I turned my head slowly, the motion pulling at my neck. "Good afternoon to you too."
She froze the moment she looked at me. In her hand, wrapped tightly in her grip, was my son. She quickly—but gently—put him down, adjusting her hold so he didn't stumble.
