I woke up to a familiar environment; everything was white, and with the posters on the wall, I knew I was at a hospital.
I couldn’t move as somehow my body felt heavy. My eyes looked around the room until they spotted a figure sleeping on the couch—Clinton. I recognised him due to his hair.
“Cli…Ckinto,” I said in a low tone; he seemed to be fast asleep. My eyes took in the surroundings. That's when a woman dressed in a nursing uniform came in with a reporting notepad.
“Good morning, Mrs. Clinton. How are you feeling today?” She greeted me with a warm smile and checked my temperature and recorded something.
“What’s going on? How did I end up here?” I asked, but she ignored me. That’s when Clinton got up and rushed to my side.
“You’re up; how are you feeling?” He asked, taking my hand
