Margret's Pov

I opened my eyes to a ceiling that was far too white and lights that stung like needles. The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic. I tried to shift my weight, but a flare of pain ripped through my midsection, forcing a gasp out of me.

"Careful now," a nurse said, appearing at my bedside. She was busy checking a monitor, her face a mask of professional boredom. "That’s a deep wound. Don't try to sit up. I’ll go tell the doctor you’re finally with us."

She vanished before I could ask a single question. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my breath coming in...