CHAPTER NINETY FIVE

ELIZABETH:

When I finally opened my eyes, everything around me felt unfamiliar, as though I had been transported to a different world. The room was too bright, too sterile. The soft beeping of a machine beside me was the first sound I registered, a slow and steady rhythm that matched my own heartbeat. My body felt heavy, as if it wasn’t really mine, and a dull, persistent ache in my chest reminded me of what had happened. I blinked, trying to make sense of where I was, why I was here, and then it all came crashing back.

The basement. The gunshot. Adam’s face as I threw myself in front of him. The explosion of pain when the bullet hit.

I was alive. Somehow, I had survived.

It took a moment for the rest of my senses to catch up. My throat was dry, and my mouth tasted like metal. Slowly, I became aware of the soft weight of a hand clutching mine, squeezing it tightly, as if afraid I might disappear again. I turned my head, wincing at the pain, and saw my mother sitting beside the bed. He