What I never gave her

Alexander’s POV

A groan rumbles from deep in my throat as I stir awake, the world around me coming into hazy focus. Bright white light blurs at first, then slowly sharpens into the sterile view of a hospital ceiling. 

I jolt upright.

The sudden movement sends a jab of pain through my ribs, and the room tilts for a second. My heart kicks into overdrive as I take it all in—the stiff sheets, the IV in my arm, the hospital gown. What the hell happened? How did I end up here?

“Alexander…”

My mother’s voice.

I turn, and there she is—Sabrina King, standing just beside the bed, her face shadowed with worry. For a moment, she looks almost unrecognizable like that. Eyes slightly puffy, lips pressed tight, concern written into every sharp line of her expression.

She steps closer, reaching out to steady me. “You’re not strong yet,” she says, her voice low but firm. “You should try resting more.”

Her fingers graze my arm, guiding me back down gently.