In the heart of despair, clarity emerged like a lifeline. As Ethan’s shadow loomed over me, I realized I had two choices: succumb to the fear or fight for my life. The years of submission, of silenced tears and muted screams, had brought me to this precipice. But in this moment of impending doom, something deep within me rebelled against the darkness.
The hospital’s sterile scent mingled with my desperation, creating a cocktail of urgency that coursed through my veins. My mind raced, searching for a way, any way, to alert the world outside that I was in peril. The monitor continued its relentless beeping, a mechanical symphony of my terror. It reminded me—machines had alarms.
“Ethan,” I croaked, summoning every ounce of strength to steady my voice. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just need a moment.”
