I woke to the smell of lavender and the softness of silk sheets against my skin, my body sinking into the plush mattress beneath me. For a moment, I let myself believe that everything had been a terrible dream, that the cell and the pain were just figments of my imagination.
But the ache in my limbs and the rawness of my emotions told a different story. I had been unconscious for two days, they said, and now I was back home. Home. It felt like a foreign concept after everything that had happened.
The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to keep the harsh daylight at bay. I glanced around, taking in the familiar surroundings: the elegant furniture, the carefully chosen decor, all reflections of Carmen's impeccable taste.
My eyes landed on a framed photo on the nightstand, a picture of us from happier times. We were smiling, arms wrapped around each other, oblivious to the storm that was brewing.