Six hours later, I opened my eyes in the same ward I knew too well. My throat was dry, my voice rough, and the pain still sharp, but I was alive.
The phone by my bed buzzed, and when I answered it, Wilbert’s grandfather’s voice came through, calm and heavy. “Anika, all the papers are ready. This is the last step. You won’t regret it, will you?”
I swallowed hard and whispered, “No. I can’t wait to leave. Book three tickets for me. Once it’s done, I want to disappear immediately.”
I was about to ask him to confirm the plan again when the door flew open. My blood ran cold.
“Anika, where are you going?” Wilbert’s voice cut through the room like a knife. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching me.
I quickly ended the call and set the phone down. My face froze into something cold so he wouldn’t see the panic I felt.