Is It a Crime to End One's Suffering?

The room was steeped in silence, the kind that pressed against her ears and made her chest feel heavy. Samantha lay there, her eyes locked on the stark white ceiling. It loomed above her like a canvas begging for answers she couldn’t give. The darkness around her seemed alive, creeping into the edges of her thoughts, amplifying her confusion.

The bed Takumi had lent her felt foreign—too soft, too pristine—yet it offered no comfort. Sleep was out of the question, as her mind churned relentlessly. Questions piled atop one another, their weight crushing her resolve. She refused to accept what they had told her. Every word they spoke felt like a carefully crafted lie, a puzzle with pieces that didn’t fit.