The next morning, I woke with a heavy heart, the memories of the previous day flooding back with an overwhelming intensity. The fight, the injuries, the desperate race to save Aurelia—it had been a harrowing experience.
As I lay in bed, the image of Aurelia collapsing, pale and bleeding, haunted my thoughts. The ache of worry and helplessness gnawed at me, making it impossible to stay still.
I dragged myself out of bed and headed to the bathroom, hoping a hot shower might clear my mind. The warm water cascaded over me, washing away the grime and tension of the night. I scrubbed my skin vigorously, trying to cleanse myself of the lingering dread. When I finally stepped out, I felt a bit more composed, though the knot in my stomach remained.
