The fifth morning in the hospital arrived quietly. The sun rose with a pale, gentle glow, soft enough not to disturb Elena where she lay resting on the crisp white sheets. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and warm cotton, and for the first time since she had been brought in unconscious, Elena breathed without discomfort. Her cheeks were no longer sunken from fear and exhaustion. Her lips, once trembling, now held a faint color. She looked like someone slowly stitching herself back into ...