Scratching Scars That Won’t Heal (1)

The VIP hospital room had a soft, warm light glowing around the back of their beds, where the built-in headboard was that housed some buttons with labels on them for staff use. There were unused monitors and IV racks on either side of Angela and Gael's bed, serving as a reminder that they were in a hospital and not in a hotel.

Angela stirred, a soft moan escaping her lips when her eyes fluttered open. Her back was throbbing, which was what woke her up at six a.m. that morning. With her brows furrowed, she sat up on the bed and glanced at Gael, wondering if he was hurting too like she was—though his wounds must hurt ten times more than hers did.