When I finally woke, pain pulsed through every nerve in my body. My feet were wrapped in bandages, my limbs weak and shaking. But through the haze, one thought kept me grounded.
It’s almost over.
Just a little longer. Just endure a few more days.
Soon, I would disappear.
And I would never look back.
I woke up drenched in heat, my skin burning—not with anger this time, but with fever. My body ached all over, every joint stiff, every breath rough and shallow. The agony in my toes from that savage punishment hadn’t faded; it throbbed constantly, making it nearly impossible to stand, let alone walk properly.
The days blurred together after that. I drifted in and out of consciousness, half‑awake, half‑lost in fever dreams. And through it all, one thing never changed.
Aldrin never came.
Not once did he open my door. Not once did he ask if I was alive.