Lena's head was heavy, pounding with a relentless ache that refused to subside. Her eyelids fluttered open, slow and reluctant, revealing a blurred ceiling above her. The room was dim, shadows dancing across the walls, and her throat was parched, a dry, gritty sensation making her cough softly. She blinked a few times, trying to orient herself, but her mind was sluggish, fogged with confusion.
For a moment, she had no idea where she was. The darkness in her mind was thick, suffocating. Then, slowly, fragments of memory began to surface—sharp, jagged pieces that refused to fit together at first but grew clearer with each passing second. Her stomach clenched as the truth started to unravel, dread pooling in her chest.
Zayn.
The nightclub. She remembered him saving her from the chaos, pul
