Lottie sat slumped on the back of the ambulance, the cold metal of the vehicle pressing into her as she huddled under a damp towel, its edges frayed and soaked with her sweat. Her hair, once styled, now hung in tangled clumps around her face, the wild strands matted against her forehead. The mascara that had once framed her eyes smeared, leaving her dark streaks down her cheeks where tears had flowed freely, mingling with the blood that stained her clothes.

The fabric of her shirt clung to her skin, sticky and damp with the mix of sweat and blood. A sharp sting pulsed from the stab wound on her arm, the dark, crimson stain spreading over her sleeve, a stark contrast against her complexion. Her breath came in shallow, shaky gasps, and despite the chaotic sirens and frantic voices around her, she felt a heavy weight settle on her chest, as though the world had turned into nothing more than a blur of pain and fear.