Waking to War

Dante

Seventy two hours since Vittoria had woken, and the hospital was not the same—like it vibrated, a trace of anticipation humming under the clinical white walls. Yesterday had been a haze of nurses, tests, and waiting patiently. I was still bruised, my body stiff and sore from the crash, but I barely cared. Not when she was awake. Not when she was here.

She sat on the hospital bed now, wearing