POV: Sienna

I hate hospitals. Because hospitals always smell like fear to me. The air is too sterile. Too clean to be comforting, filled with quiet reminders that life hangs by thin, fragile threads.

Now, three days have passed since my father’s collapse. I hadn’t slept much, my thoughts looping endlessly between guilt, anger, and the haunting image of him clutching his chest while I screamed for help.

Rhett had refused to leave my side. He spent every night in the stiff chair beside me, ...