With the morning sun slowly falling over northeastern Europe, its golden rays finally reached the premises of Saint Regalia Hospital.
One particular beam slipped through a gap in the curtain, landing firmly on bare skin that had no business being exposed in a room meant for rest and recovery.
Inside one of the private rooms, the air remained dense and moist, despite the automated fragrance dispenser releasing a soft mist every hour.
On the crumpled hospital bed, two bodies lay close beneath a thin white sheet that barely concealed the chaos underneath.
The room was silent. But it was not peaceful.
The sheets, once soaked, had dried with crusted rings of mixed fluids. The distinct scent of sex lingered heavily in the air—undeniable and unrepentant.
It was not a place of rest, but one of raw rhythm and relentless movement, repeated over and over through the night.
The woman's back was bent at an odd angle, her body loosely entangled with the man beside her.
