Page 186 of BounBound By Scars

Then—blessed darkness.

FORTY

Kabir

Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound drilled into my skull. Repetitive. Shrill. Too clean.

Monitors.

My head pounded. My lungs felt like they were wrapped in barbed wire.

“Sahil Chawla. Age thirty five. Fractures on the third, seventh, and eighth ribs—left side. Brought in with pulmonary contusion. Mild pneumothorax…”

Fuck.

That’s me.

No wonder it felt like I was breathing through broken glass.

I groaned.

Somewhere to my left, a voice cut in—closer now. “Patient’s waking up.”

I tried to move—mistake. Agony surged through my ribs like a live wire.

The antiseptic sting in the air. The harsh white light slicing through my eyelids.

Definitely a hospital.

How the hell am I alive?

Last thing I remembered was Ling.

The guards leaving.

The masked man.

Ling’s screams.

The sickening crunch of his skull.

The image hit me like a jolt—Gao Ling on the floor, his face caved in like a shattered melon. Blood pooling. Bone fragments visible.

He was gone.

No gloating. No final words. Just raw, violent erasure.

I exhaled, chest rattling with the effort.

The beeping hadn’t stopped.

My eyelids felt like sandpaper, but I forced them open. Stark white ceiling. Glare from overhead fluorescents. Linens stiff against my skin. Definitely a hospital.

A nurse in pale blue scrubs moved into view, typing something on a mounted tablet. A few white coats leaving my room. They were probably here for rounds.