the small spaces between sedative doses. In those brief, lu

But one is different. Her name is Maria. Her touch is gentle, her voice is quiet, and her eyes are sharp. She lingers a

lead, but I manage to open them a fraction. The world is a slit of blurry light.

it. Now

into one single point of action. My right hand. It' s a

e stops, her eyes

ng over the bed rail. "

I can move. Slowly, painstakingly, I lift my h

weak, pathetic, but it's e

scrawl three lett

O

from his world. Morse code. I tap my finger against th

1

ing to the nurses that it' s on a separate feed, one that the administrator doesn' t monitor as closely. A blind spo

flicker of fear, then a spark of resolve. She give

listening ears. She administers the sedative, and I feel the familiar fog begin

nsciousness. The door to my roo

s An

dside, leaning in close. His

The war hero. So broken.

a is mine now. Everything you had is mine. Yo

age, pure and hot, floods my system. I am

were really in there," he muses, h

l syringe. Something else. He uncovers my leg and, wi

ain shoots through my leg.

the beeping turning into

ies open. I

ng?" she yells, r

the needle. "I don't know

g at the small, bleeding puncture mark on my

kn