The first thing she noticed was the silence. Not the soft kind, like morning in a forest or dusk over a lake but an artificial silence. The kind padded by machines and wires, one heartbeat too slow, like the world was holding its breath around her.
Then came the light.
It was blinding and pale plus so bright, it sliced her open behind the eyes.
Regina blinked.
White ceiling. Sterile air. A soft rhythmic beeping somewhere to her right.
Her throat was dry. Her arms were fucking heavy. Her chest burned every time she breathed in, as if the air was threaded with glass. She moved slightly, and something tugged at her wrist. A tube. An IV line. Her eyes fluttered closed again.
Something was wrong.
She opened them.
Panic bloomed like acid in her gut.
Where was she?
