Mechelle's POV
In the hospital room, I lay on the bed, unconscious. The sunlight filtered in through the window, casting dappled shadows on the sterile white floor, reminiscent of the blank scenes in my memory. A vase on the table held a bouquet of my favorite flowers—white lilies—whose faint fragrance masked much of the antiseptic smell in the room.
I've never felt so miserable. Sharp pain stabbed at my heart repeatedly, leaving my face as pale as paper. I heard a voice calling me "baby" and saying many things to me, but it felt like I had been in a coma for a long time.
