Roselle found herself in a surreal and ethereal realm, a place that seemed to exist outside of time and space. Her surroundings were a shift of memories and emotions, fragments of her past life, and moments of her current existence.

She realized that she was within the realm of her own mind, a place where the boundaries of reality and memory blurred. It was a world of introspection, self-discovery, and the echoes of her past and present selves.

As if guided by an unseen force, Roselle's awareness was drawn into a new memory, one that held a deep, powerful significance for her. It was a memory from her past life, the memory of the night she had rushed to the medical center to see her friend, Sarah, after the accusation of harm.

In this vivid recollection, Roselle found herself standing in the dimly lit Hospital corridor, her heart heavy. The memory was clear and poignant, as if it were happening all over again.

She approached the reception desk, where a stern-looking nurse sat behind a glass partition. Roselle had anxiety as she spoke, "Excuse me, I'm here to see my friend, Sarah. She was brought in earlier. Can you please tell me which room she's in?"

The woman glanced up from her paperwork, unyielding. "I'm sorry, but only immediate family members are allowed to visit patients at this hour. Visiting hours have ended for the night."

Roselle's heart sank at her words. She knew that her presence could bring comfort to Sarah.

Please," Roselle implored, "I promise it won't take long. Sarah and I are like sisters, and I need to make sure she's okay. She needs me."

"I understand your request, young lady, but rules are rules. You'll have to come back during visiting hours."

Roselle unleashed her tears as she pleaded, "But you don't understand. Sarah needs someone now. She's scared and in pain! Please, just let me see her for a few minutes."

The woman sighed and regarded Roselle with a hint of sympathy but remained resolute. "Look, I'm sorry, miss, but I can't make exceptions. I didn’t make the rules. You'll have to wait until visiting hours begin again in the morning."

Roselle experienced a surge of frustration and helplessness. She knew that Sarah needed her help, and the thought of waiting until morning was unbearable. She looked down the hallway, as if hoping for a solution to present itself.

The transition within Roselle's fragmented memory was swift and disorienting. One moment, she stood in the dimly lit corridor, pleading with the nurse to see her friend, Sarah, and the next, she found herself transported to the following day.

As she walked down the hallway, her anxiety still lingering from the previous night's encounter, Roselle noticed a somber gathering of people. It was Sarah's family, and their face were a stark contrast to the usual warmth and friendly ones she had experienced with them.

Mr. Anderson, Sarah's father, stood tall and imposing, his face holding sorrow. His presence seemed to fill the hallway, and Roselle couldn't help but feel the weight of his intense glare upon her.

Next to him was Mrs. Anderson, Sarah's mother, her eyes red and swollen from tears shed in the wake of her daughter's assault.

A small figure clung to Mrs. Anderson's hand, a little girl who was Sarah's younger sister. Her innocent appearance held a sense of confusion and fear. She looked up at Roselle with an unspoken question in her glance.

Roselle approached them hesitantly, feeling the tension in the surroundings. She knew that her presence might be unwelcomed, but she couldn't ignore the opportunity to offer her hand.

"Mr. and Mrs. Anderson," Roselle began with a gentle tone but filled with remorse, "I'm so sorry about what happened to Sarah. I can't even imagine what you're going through."

Mr. Anderson remained fixed on Roselle, his wrath simmering just below the surface. He spoke while holding a level of accusation, "You... you were her friend, weren't you?"

Roselle nodded, her heart weighed down by guilt. "Yes, we were close friends. I would never do anything to hurt her, you have to believe me."

Mrs. Anderson's trembled, her sight never leaving Roselle's face. "We just can't understand how this could have happened. Sarah was attacked, and you were the last one to see her."

Roselle's recalled the accusations that had been thrown at her the previous day. "I know it looks bad, but I promise I had nothing to do with what happened to Sarah. I would never hurt her."

The younger sister of Sarah tugged at her mother's hand. "Mommy, why did Sarah get hurt?"

Mrs. Anderson knelt down to her daughter's level, in a gentle tone as she explained, "Sometimes, bad things happen, sweetheart, and we don't always understand why. But we'll do everything we can to make sure Sarah gets better."

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Sarah’s sister began to cry, and she looked at Roselle curiously.

"Is Sarah going to be okay?"

Roselle crouched down to the young girl's eye level, her heart aching for the innocence lost in the tragedy. She felt tears welling up in her eyes as she spoke. “Sarah is strong, and she has a lot of people who care about her. I’m sure she will be okay."

Mr. Anderson remained silent, his gaze still fixed on Roselle. The suspicion in his Glare seemed to linger, but he didn't show his doubts.

As the tense conversation in the corridor continued, a doctor approached the gathered group, somber. She glanced at Roselle, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, and Sarah's little sister before speaking in a hushed tone.

"I'm sorry to inform you that Sarah is still very unstable," the attendant said with empathy. "You can go in to see her, but please be cautious in your words and avoid sensitive topics. She's been through a traumatic event, and we don't want to agitate her."

Roselle nodded with worry for her friend. She turned to Sarah's family and spoke softly, "We should go in and see her. She needs our support now more than ever."

Mr. Anderson and Mrs. Anderson exchanged a glance, their concern for their daughter evident. They nodded in agreement, and together, they entered the medical room where Sarah lay, unconscious and fighting for her life.

As the group entered the chamber, they were met with a heartbreaking sight. Sarah lay motionless in her bed, her once-vibrant appearance now drained of color and vitality. Her skin, usually rosy and full of life, appeared pale and fragile, bearing the marks of the ordeal she had endured.

Sarah's face, which had always held a radiant smile and sparkled with happiness, now seemed marred by the pain and trauma she had suffered. She lay still and sleep, as if in a deep and troubled slumber.

Roselle's heart ached at the sight of her closest friend in such a broken state. She approached Sarah's bedside with cautious steps. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson followed closely behind.

As she reached Sarah's bed, Roselle hesitated before gently taking Sarah's hand in her own. She could feel the frailty of Sarah's grip, a stark contrast to the strength and vitality she was used to. Roselle's touch was soft and tentative, conveying both affection and concern. She whispered,

"Sarah, it's me, Roselle. I'm here for you, just like you've always been there for me."

Mrs. Anderson moved to the other side of the bed, her trembling hand brushing a strand of hair from Sarah's forehead. She leaned in close, her lips quivering as she whispered soothing words to her daughter, her gestures infused with a mother's love.

"Our sweet girl... You have to wake up, Sarah. We need you."

Mr. Anderson, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up. "We're going to find out who did this to you, Sarah. They won't get away with it. We won't rest until we have justice."

Sarah's little sister, standing at the foot of the bed, looked up at her family. She didn't fully understand the situation, but she sensed the pain and fear that filled the room. She reached out and touched Sarah's leg, "Sis...please wake up. I miss you."

Sarah slowly regained consciousness, her eyes fluttered open, and the first face she saw was Roselle's, her best friend who had been by her side through thick and thin. A mix of emotions washed over Sarah as one person she was able to see was Roselle, and tears began to fall without control.

"Roselle..." Sarah's whispered her friend's name. She couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they spilled down her cheeks. "I...I can't believe you're here. I thought...I thought you…"

Sarah's words trailed off as she struggled to find the right ones to describe the overwhelming relief and gratitude she felt in that moment. She reached out her soft hand, and Roselle gently clasped it in her own, offering a reassuring and comforting squeeze.

With tears streaming down her face, Sarah continued, "I thought I'd never see you again. I was … I was so scared, Roselle."

Roselle’s fought back her tears too. She leaned in closer to Sarah. "Sarah, I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere. We're going to get through this together. I promise. "

Sarah recounted the horrifying events that had unfolded in her absence, Roselle's initial relief gave way to an overwhelming sense of anger. Her fists clenched, and her jaw tightened as she struggled to contain the fiery rage that surged within her.

"Someone...someone who looked like me?" Roselle repeated, becoming filled with blazing fury. "They...they led you into that situation, Sarah? And you went through...through something unspeakable because of them?"

The room seemed to grow smaller as Roselle's fury escalated, and her words started to pour out like molten lava. She couldn't hold back the overwhelming sense of outrage that coursed through her.

"I can't...I can't believe someone would do something so vile, so cruel! I'm more than angry, Sarah. I’m Damn Angry! How dare they use my identity to hurt you like that? How could they?!I’ll strangle whoever did this!"

Sarah's mother sensed the rising pressure in the room and gently guided her little sister out, leaving Roselle and Sarah's Father alone with their seething rage.

Roselle continued to simmer. She could swear to her Mother that she was never this angry in her life. “I promise you, Sarah, I won't rest until we find out who did this to you and make them pay for what they've done. No one should ever have to go through what you've been through, especially not because of someone impersonating me."

Sarah's father, Mr. Anderson, had been holding back his own rage.

"I won't rest either," Mr. Anderson declared, "I'll find the person who did this to my daughter, and I'll give them a suplex they'll never forget!"

Roselle, sensing the intensity of Mr.Anderson, nervously interjected with a chuckle. "Um, I appreciate your support too, but you might want to take it easy. It's...um, it's a girl who's behind all of this."

Mr. Anderson paused, his rage momentarily replaced by confusion. He blinked and then let out a slightly embarrassed chuckle of his own. "Right, right. Gotcha. Got a bit carried away there. But I'll make sure we punish them, no matter who's responsible."

Before leaving the hospital, Mr. Anderson handed Roselle a piece of paper with his direct phone number. He stared at her with seriousness and said, "Roselle, I know someone who can help us with this. A detective I trust. College security can be unreliable, and I won't leave this to chance. Please call me if you need any assistance or updates on the investigation. We're going to work on this together."

Roselle nodded, “Thank you, Mr. Anderson. I'll keep you updated, and we'll do everything we can to find out who did this to Sarah."

After that, Roselle left. She was determined to uncover the truth and bring justice to her friend.

As Roselle walked away from the area, a deep in thought about the disturbing revelations from her conversation with Sarah's family, she had no idea that someone was following her from the shadows. Unseen and unnoticed, this mysterious figure trailed her all the way back to her house, their intentions hidden in the darkness.