Trixy's Pov
A sharp, antiseptic scent was in the air when I came back to my senses.
White. Everything was ultra white – the ceiling, the bed, even the light coming from the fluorescent lamp above.
At first, I couldn't recall immediately where I was. After failing to find something familiar, my mind hit the wall of pain in my head.
"Ahh…" I groaned, and on the reflex, I raised a hand. My fingers felt a big bandage, and the pull of an IV line tugged at my other arm.
A dextrose drip.
Hospital.
The missing pieces of memory flashed like an old film: the glare of the car's lights, the screeching of tires, a sudden shining of metal.
At first, these voices were muffled and seemed very distant as if they were coming from the other end of a tunnel.
"…if I hadn't done that… she wouldn't be in the accident," a girl's voice trembled.
"Phoebe, stop. It was an accident—none of this is your fault," another voice replied, calmly but firmly.
