Anna's POV:

My eyes open before I'm ready.

The hospital ceiling is flat and white and exactly the same as when I closed them. My body still carries the cold—not real cold, not anymore, but the memory of it has taken up residence somewhere inside my chest and refuses to be asked out. The dark. The rising water. The door that wouldn't move.

My hand finds the tablet on the side table before I'm fully awake. Old habit. Screen lighting up with ...