—Hazel—
The house was too quiet.
Even with the soft hum of the AC and the occasional chirp from outside, everything inside felt muffled, like the walls were holding their breath with me. The ride back from the hospital had been silent. Ace hadn't pushed conversation, and I hadn't tried to make one. My body was tired. My brain was worse.
I took a long shower—longer than I needed. Just stood there, letting the water run down my back while I held my stomach gently, waiting to feel another kick, some kind of reassurance.
It came. Just a little flutter. But it was enough.
I dried off slowly, taking my time brushing through my damp hair. I didn't bother with lotion or makeup or anything else. I wasn't trying to feel pretty. I just wanted to feel normal. Whatever that meant anymore.
By the time I got to the bedroom, the bed was freshly made—probably by one of the staff I hadn't seen—and the curtains were drawn halfway open. The light was soft, golden. Inviting.
