Silvia
I pushed myself up from the edge of the hospital bed, every muscle protesting.
This weakness felt foreign, like my body wasn't my own.
Sherman held my hand as I struggled to stand, my knees wobbling.
He guided me toward the physical therapy equipment in the corner, moving with a carefulness that felt fragile, like I might break.
"Easy," he murmured, his grip firm but gentle.
It had been a week since I'd opened my eyes.
Seven days that felt both endless and like a blur.
The doctors kept using words like "miraculous recovery" and "beating the odds." I'd smile and nod, but inside, I felt hollow.
A miracle for me, maybe. But the cost of that miracle was written all over Sherman 's face.
I stole a glance at him as we shuffled forward. His blue eyes were bl
