CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN: The Fury of Dwight

DWIGHT’S POV:

Anastasia’s room feels colder and quieter as I step inside, my heart already heavy with worry for a reason I can’t pinpoint. The familiar scent of antiseptic mixed with anxiety hangs in the air, intensifying my unease. Then my eyes dart around the room, searching for the one person who matters most to me: Anastasia.

“Oh shit!” I hiss as I rush deeper into the room.

With wide eyes I stare at the empty bed!

My breath catches in my throat, my mind refusing to accept the possibility that Anastasia may have run away again. I want to believe that she has just wandered off for some fresh air, that she’ll return any moment, but the chaos in the room tells a different story.

The stool and table lay overturned, the machines that have monitored Anastasia's condition are askew, evidence of a struggle that had taken place in my absence.

My thoughts race to mom, who’s supposed to be keeping watch over Anastasia. But she’s nowhere to be found either.

“Where is she?! Where are th