I spent fifteen days in a hospital bed after the car accident—fifteen long days that blurred together under fluorescent lights and the steady beeping of machines. My body was broken in ways I didn’t yet understand, and my voice was gone, trapped somewhere between pain and medication. The doctors told me I was lucky to be alive, but it didn’t feel like luck. It felt like being suspended in a quiet, empty space where time moved forward without me. My children lived far away and couldn’t come, my friends were pulled back into their own lives, and the hours stretched...
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