Larissa's POV
I woke up feeling like I hadn't slept at all. My body ached from tossing and turning, my mind replaying fragments of the previous day. Hospital hallways blurred together with memories of Carson's touch and the sight of my father hooked up to machines.
Sleep had been anything but peaceful.
Morning light filtered through the hospital windows as I made my way back to the ICU. The sterile corridors seemed less threatening in daylight, though the antiseptic smell still made my stomach clench.
Mom was exactly where I'd expected to find her, curled awkwardly in the uncomfortable visitor's chair beside Dad's bed. Her head tilted at an angle that would definitely give her a crick in her neck.
"Mom," I said softly, placing my hand on her arm.
She jerked awake, blinking rapidly as she tried to focus. "Larissa? What time is it?"
"Just past nine. How's he been?"
