At a family dinner, my sister introduced her boyfriend—and for some reason, he couldn’t stop staring at me. He asked what I did for a living.
The fluorescent lights of the emergency room were aggressive, burning through my eyelids before I could even open them. The sounds of the hospital—the beep of monitors, the squeak of rubber soles—felt like they were underwater. “Miss Harper? Can you hear me?” A nurse with kind eyes hovered over me. I tried to nod, but…
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