Chapter Thirty

Savannah

The hospital smells the same as it always does, antiseptic and coffee and something faintly metallic, but everything feels off, like the edges of the world shifted overnight and no one else noticed.

I move through my shift on muscle memory alone.

Vitals. Charts. Smiles that feel pasted on. Conversations that wash over me without sticking. I keep my hands busy because the second they’re no