Emily Pov
"She should have woken up by now..." Benson declares in the distance. His voice is muffled and concerned, and gradually, I become aware of where I am.
"She will awaken when she feels ready; there's no need to rush it," a female voice countered with tenderness.
I shift in the bed and notice how soft and cozy the mattress is; there's a blanket over my body, covering halfway down my arm. As I open my eyes, I'm greeted with an uncomfortable brightness.
Light streams in through the window with a thin layer of a white curtain swaying in the wind. I adjust to the brightness, blinking a few times, looking around, and noticing the presence of Benson and a woman in her late forties standing near the door. Benson's back is turned to me, while the woman faces me.
Our eyes meet, and a friendly smile spreads across the woman's face. She puts her hand on Benson's arm, gently pushing him aside. Then, she crosses the room to where I'm lying.