**Chapter 1: A Quiet Farewell**
The hum of the fluorescent lights was unyielding, the only sound in the sterile room where Darla lay. The gray winter light filtered weakly through the blinds, casting pale, uneven stripes across her frail body. She lay alone, wrapped in a thin, scratchy hospital blanket that barely held the warmth she struggled to keep. For weeks, the cancer had devoured her strength, leaving her body a shadow of what it once was.
Darla had always stood out. Even now, despite her shrunken frame and pallid skin, the vibrant red of her hair fell in tangled, wild waves around her face. It had once been her trademark, a splash of fire that made people turn their heads, drawn by the unusual combination of her green eyes and the rich color of her hair. But now, her red locks felt like a cruel reminder of a past life she could no longer reach, a time when she was more than a hollow shell waiting for the end.
Her skin was thin and ghostly pale, made nearly translucent by weeks in the hospital. Cancer had claimed her color first, then her strength, leaving her looking like a faded photograph of herself. She'd spent most of her life alone, growing up as a ward of the state, floating from foster home to foster home. And now, at the end, there was no one left to sit beside her or hold her hand, just the endless hum of machines, their beeps growing fainter as her heartbeat slowed.
A sharp ache clawed at her chest, but she welcomed it—an echo of life she could still feel. She stared at the ceiling, counting the tiny cracks in the paint, her mind drifting to things she'd never gotten the chance to do. She would never travel, never finish the novel she'd always meant to write, never know what it was like to love and be loved in return.
With a shuddering breath, she blinked, her vision blurring at the edges. Her heart beat once, then twice, each pulse slower than the last. There was no fear now. Only a quiet acceptance, a release from the pain that had held her captive for so long.
As her eyes began to close, Darla felt a warmth spread over her, almost as if a soft hand was cradling her head, pulling her gently into sleep. And as her last breath left her lips, she whispered to herself, "Maybe... there's something after."
Darkness settled around her, a calm and gentle nothingness.
But then, in the void, a sensation—a faint pull, almost like the first flicker of a dream. In the stillness, something shifted, and Darla's awareness sparked back to life.