(Ayra's POV)
The soft knock on the door startled me from my thoughts.
I quickly straightened up and wiped the lingering tears from my cheeks. I couldn't afford to look fragile, not now.
The nurse pushed the door open and entered with a warm, professional smile, followed closely by a man in a white coat—the doctor.
"Good morning, Miss Ayra," the doctor greeted, glancing at the clipboard in his hands before looking at me with a calm, assessing expression. "How are you feeling this morning?"
I forced a small smile, masking the whirlwind of emotions beneath.
"Better, I think," I replied, my voice steady even though I still felt surreal.
My heart was still hammering from my earlier realization—I had gone back six years in time. I needed answers, and I needed them fast.
The doctor approached, placing his clipboard on the bedside table.
