Alex opened his eyes slowly.
His vision was blurry. The lights above him looked like stars scattered across a foggy sky. For a moment, he thought he was in a hospital. But as his sight became clearer, he noticed something strange.
Bookshelves.
Paintings.
A soft leather couch.
This wasn't a hospital.
Confused, he looked around carefully. The room was silent, calm, almost too calm for how his heart was racing inside him. His body ached all over, and when he tried to sit up, sharp pains rushed through his ribs and chest. He winced.
Then he heard a voice. Familiar, steady.
"You're awake…"
Alex turned his head slightly, his weak neck protesting the movement. There, sitting on a chair beside the bed, was Raymond Carter, looking worried, and beside him, standing tall and quiet, was Thomas Finch, the same man who had rescued him. The same man he once knew as nothing more than an old beggar at the market.
Alex blinked twice, unsure if he was dreaming.
