The office felt different this morning. The same sterile white walls, the same medical equipment, the same operating table under the harsh fluorescent lights. But the energy was completely different from last time.
Last time, there had been uncertainty. Fear. The very real possibility that I wouldn't wake up.
Today felt like hope.
Evelyn sat on the edge of the operating table, her legs dangling slightly, hands gripping the edge with white knuckles. Her blindfold was still in place, but I could see the tension in her shoulders, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.
Alexis stood at her instrument tray, methodically checking each piece of equipment. Her platinum hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she wore full surgical scrubs. But I could see the slight tremor in her hands as she picked up a scalpel, examined it, and set it back down.
I walked over to her, keeping my voice low. "Are you okay with this?"
