Lana

Dr. Brian's fingers were steady and clinical as they pressed against my wrist, measuring the rhythm of my pulse with professional detachment. But something in the prolonged silence between us made the locked room feel smaller, colder—as though the very walls were pressing inward.

"Your recovery progresses well," he said finally, his voice maintaining that same impersonal tone. "You should be fully restored soon."

I nodded slowly, fighting the urge to pull my hand away from his touch. ...