A week after the madness.

It had been seven days.

Seven long, crawling, suffocating days.

Days filled with pain medication, with too many nurses touching me gently, with Damon refusing to leave my side-not even to sleep. With Lina constantly bringing food I barely tasted. With Carl trying to call me from eight different numbers, all of which I blocked. With reporters hovering outside the hospital like hungry vultures.

Seven days since my father shot me.

Seven days since I lost the twins.

I ...