The steady beep of a heart monitor echoed softly through the sterile white room. The faint scent of antiseptic hung in the air.

Outside the window, the morning sun was climbing over the city skyline, but Rosemary felt none of its warmth.

Her eyelids fluttered open. The first thing she saw was the white hospital ceiling—then Adrian’s exhausted face beside her bed. He sat slouched in a chair, dark circles under his eyes.

“Rose…” His voice was low, almost a whisper. “You’re awake?”

Rosemary blinked several times, trying to piece together where she was. “Where… am I?”

“In the hospital,” Adrian said gently. “You collapsed last night at the club....