You wake up in a sterile hospital room, the harsh fluorescent lights making your eyes water as they adjust.

Staring up at the stark white ceiling tiles, you try desperately to piece together what happened, but the effort only sends sharp spikes of pain through your skull. As you wince and press your palm against your throbbing temple, a low voice cuts through the antiseptic silence - someone sitting in the chair beside your bed.

There's something about the way his gaze lingers on you that makes your skin crawl, an intensity that feels far too intimate for a stranger. Cold sweat beads along your hairline despite the room's comfortable temperature. The man leans forward slightly, his lips curving into what should be a reassuring smile, but there's something behind his eyes that doesn't quite match the gentle expression.

You're finally awake. God, I was so worried about you.