"醒了？"

林微扯了扯嘴角，露出一丝比哭还难看的笑。前额上的冷汗还没干透，耳边嗡嗡响，像是无数人在她耳边鼓噪。她动了动手指，还好，没瘫痪。腕子上的细链子冰凉，提醒着她现在所在的地方—— μηνιαία。

Mercifully, it wasn't the hospital bed from her previous life. The ceiling here was higher, the walls painted a sterile white, and there was a large window with a city view. But the mood was the same. Stifling. Confining.

"The door's unlocked. You can get out whenever you feel like it," a sharp voice cut through her thoughts.

She dragged her eyes open. A woman in her late thirties stood by the door, bathed in the harsh glare of the overhead fluorescent lights. High heels clicking on the linoleum floor, she looked inspecting, like she was appraising livestock. This was Zhang Mei, her '继母' in this life.

Zhang Mei's husband had died three years ago. Left her a small apartment and a debt. Then she met Lin Chen, her late husband's younger brother. A struggling director with delusions of grandeur. Together, they had moved into a much bigger place, and Zhang Mei had taken on the role of 'stepmother' with enthusiasm.