MaliaA week after I woke up at the school hospital, I was discharged but I had one last appointment with the doctor, Dr. Lukeman. The stark white walls of his office felt suffocating, sterile. I sat stiffly on the exam table, my neck brace chafing slightly against my skin and the bandages around my head itching like hell. I hated every second of this. Not just the discomfort, but the silence hanging between us. He was methodical, too slow, as he moved his scanner over my head one final time, humming to himself like he didn’t have anything better to do. Finally, he turned to face me, his expression unreadable. “You’ll heal fully,” he said, setting the scanner down. “You haven't lost any memory because your head injury isn’t as severe as it looked, and the brace is just a precaution. You’ll be fine soon.” I nodded, waiting for him to finish so I could leave. But then he stepped closer, his voice dropping into something colder. “But, Malia,” he said, fixing me with a sharp gaze, “
Last Updated : 2024-11-27 Read more