the recovery project [2]

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fiona

she is in a bed that isn't her own, and her room is dark from the drawn curtains. the feeling of bewilderment is nowhere near comforting.

"elijah," she mumbles, panic seizing her as a nurse touches her forehead with the back of her hand. "where's elijah?"

"you're going to be okay," the nurse smiles. her hazel eyes are welcoming— just like everett's... everett?

"where's elijah?"

"get your rest, dear," she responds.

she passes out again.