"I beg your pardon!"
The words issued from her mouth before she could even think twice about it, tugging her hand out of this strange man's rather tight grasp, the imprint of his lips a strange burning on her skin. For all her shrill words, something her head certainly was regretting, they were not particularly outraged, simply shocked, a bit worried…and perhaps a hint if appalled. Was he from a different ward? Surely the staff would not have let some confused patient wander around the hospital unmanned. Rachel then took in his appearance, which, while perhaps harried, hinted at meticulousness and finery—in short, not the garb of a hospital patient, and her uneasiness returned. She looked wretched, she knew she did, so perhaps under the bandages and the pallid complexion and the bleary look in her eyes, he mistook her for some other unfortunate woman.
"I think you must be confused, sir," she said gently, or tried to, shifting away from him. "You have the wrong room."
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