The hospital room was bathed in the faint light of the evening sun that seeps through the blinds of the large window, casting long, slanted shadows across the walls. The hum of machines fills the air, and the occasional beep of monitors breaks the silence.

In the center of the room lies a hospital bed, and in it rests Adrianne, connected to an IV drip. Her face is peaceful, the soft rise and fall of her chest indicating that she is still asleep. Her chestnut hair spills across the pillow in a tangled mass, and her slender fingers clutch the edges of the blanket.

Her breathing is slow and measured,...