Eleanor's POV
The first thing I was aware of was a dull, throbbing ache in my temples. Then the sterile, bleach smell of a hospital. I opened my eyes to the familiar, depressing off-white ceiling of a wardroom. Again.
The accident played on a loop behind my eyes. It felt like I was a magnet for disaster. But beneath the physical pain and the shaken nerves, something else nagged at me. A conversation, hazy and dreamlike, that I'd heard as I was slipping away.
"...is Eleanor a werewolf?"
The words echoed in my head, clear and utterly insane. Why did it feel so real? It had to be the concussion, right? My mind conjuring up wild stories to make sense of the trauma.
The door creaked open, and Mira slipped in, followed by Roxy. Mira's face was a mask of concern, her eyes scanning me from head to toe.
"Eleanor! You're awake. How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice soft and worried.
