Where Hearts Speak of Pain

Avery Miller had been unconscious for a full two days. 

When she finally awoke, her eyes, weak and bleary, didn't meet the sterile white of hospital walls, nor did she smell the pungent scent of disinfectant. 

Instead, she found herself in a room where the walls, long neglected, were coated with dust and unidentified black marks. 

Avery blinked slowly, her gaze drifting towards the small, curtain-less window that was cobwebbed and dusty at the corners. 

Outside, the constant hum of vehicles, reminiscent of the tractors hauling crops on country roads, filled the air.

She lay still for a moment, contemplating getting up, but a sharp pain in her lower body made her want to cry. 

It suddenly hit her—she had been pushed down the high steps outside the hospital by Natalie Green. Before losing consciousness, she had felt the cold, sticky ground beneath her.