Third week!

Yes, freaking third.

Time had dragged itself more than it ever had before. Each day had felt like an entire decade for these three weeks, as if delaying my destiny.

The hospital had been quiet—so dead quiet. But I understood, somehow, that the process takes time. The only good thing happening was that my body was healing. The pain in my ribs was no longer sharp, only dull and heavy. I could walk without needing someone to lean on or an arm to hold me.

All was looking bright, ...