Hailey's pov
Recovery did not come all at once. It crept in slowly, in fragments that pieced themselves together over days that blended into weeks. The physical pain was the first to demand attention. My ribs ached with every breath, a constant reminder of the kicks that had left them bruised and cracked.
The doctor at the hospital had wrapped them tightly, prescribing rest and painkillers, but even with the medication, moving was a trial.
I had suffered more.
My wrists were bandaged where the zip ties had cut deep, the skin raw and scabbed, stinging whenever I flexed my hands. Bruises bloomed across my thighs and arms like dark flowers, purple and yellow, each one a map of where hands had gripped too tightly, where fists had landed without mercy. The split lip healed faster, but the
