CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

ZOEY

The world came back to me in fragments—disjointed sounds, blurred images, and a disorienting sense of weightlessness. My mind struggled to make sense of the swirling chaos around me. It felt like waking from a dream, but the haze that clouded my senses told me this was no ordinary slumber.

As my awareness sharpened, I heard the rhythmic beeping of machines and distant voices speaking in hushed tones. The sterile scent of antiseptic invaded my nostrils, confirming my suspicions—I was in a hospital.

A fleeting thought crossed my mind: Am I dead? Is this what heaven feels like? The idea seemed absurd, but the disorientation of my surroundings fueled a surreal sense of unreality.

Slowly, I tried to open my eyes. The harsh brightness of the hospital room assaulted my senses, and I squinted against the glare. Shapes and shadows gradually took form, revealing the clinical whiteness of the room.

I turned my h