where am I ??

Altan POV,

I found myself sitting outside the hospital for the past five to six hours, consumed by confusion and uncertainty. I couldn't comprehend why I was lingering there, why I felt compelled to stay. After all, the girl lying inside was a stranger to me, someone I had no connection to. But despite that, I couldn't escape the haunting thoughts that flooded my mind, reopening the pages of my past that I had fought so hard to close. It was as if the darkness I had overcome was pulling me back in, engulfing me once again.

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly heard the doctor's voice nearby. I hadn't even realized when he had come out of the operation theater and stood beside me. He informed me that the girl had regained consciousness, but there was something peculiar about her demeanor. She seemed distressed and displayed a reluctance to continue living. The doctor expressed his concerns, hinting at the profound sadness that seemed to consume her.

Without much thought, I found myself stepping inside the room where the girl was situated. As I entered, I saw her perched on the edge of the bed, a picture of shock and pallor. Her eyes held an unfamiliar pain, and I couldn't help but wonder if I was capable of showing genuine concern for a stranger.

Initially, she didn't notice my presence, her attention fixed on the nurse who stood nearby, attending to the task of changing the glucose bottle. In a soft and trembling voice, she asked the nurse, "Who brought me here?" The nurse, focused on her duties, replied that she had only started her night shift a few hours ago and was unaware of who had brought her in.

I made my way towards the foot of her bed, standing directly in her line of sight. Looking into her eyes, I spoke, confirming her unspoken question, "I am the one who brought you here." Her gaze met mine, and I couldn't help but sense the animosity radiating from her. It was as if a storm of questions swirled within her mind, waiting to be unleashed upon me. I briefly glanced at her, understanding that she was grappling with a myriad of queries.

After a few moments of silence, she mustered the courage to speak, only to close her mouth once again, unable to articulate her thoughts. It was evident that she wanted to ask me something, but confusion gripped her tightly. Finally, in a soft and pained voice, she uttered, "Thank you very much for saving me." I sensed that her gratitude was laced with bitterness, but I accepted her thanks nonetheless, nodding my head and offering a gentle smile. In return, I received a smile tinged with sadness. I couldn't fathom the reasons behind her reaction.

Just then, I felt a tap on my shoulder, drawing my attention to the presence of an inspector who stood behind me. He expressed relief at the girl's recovery, stating that they were glad she was okay. As he continued speaking, questioning her about the circumstances leading to her condition, I turned to face him. He inquired if someone was responsible for her state, and if she could provide them with her family's address for further inquiries and to inform them of her safety.

As the inspector fired off question after question, the girl clenched her jaw, gripping the bedsheet tightly in her hands. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, as if trying to shut out the world. Then, with a display of tremendous courage, she replied in a soft and agonized voice, "I have no one in this world." Her response struck a chord within me, stirring a deep well of empathy.

The inspector regarded the girl, his tone shifting to one of sympathy. He apologized for his line of questioning and asked if there was anyone close to her whom they could contact. The girl's pain reached a tipping point, and she shouted, "I don't know anybody! I am an orphan!" The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, revealing the immense burden she carried.

Moved by her response, I stepped forward and interjected into their conversation. I addressed the inspector, acknowledging his duty as a law enforcement officer, but also urging him to recognize the discomfort the girl felt. I implored him to let her rest for a while, postponing further inquiries until she was in a better state to answer.

The inspector turned his gaze towards me, his expression reflecting a mix of understanding and obligation. "Mr. Walmart," he began, acknowledging my stature as a well-known businessman, "I appreciate your concern. However, it is my responsibility as a policeman to ask a few select questions so that we can proceed with our investigation." His words were delivered in one swift statement.

I maintained my position, emphasizing the girl's unease with his line of questioning. I urged him to allow her the space to recover, assuring him that once she was ready, he could resume his inquiries. The inspector, looking directly at me, acknowledged my concerns, but expressed his intention to ask her just one more question once she gave the green light. He assured me that he would return later to continue the inquiry. Before departing, he sought the girl's permission to proceed, waiting for her response.

The girl nodded in the inspector's direction, giving her consent. The inspector then posed his question, "Can you tell me which city you are from? If you are from this city, could you let us know where you reside?" He directed his gaze at her, awaiting her answer.

After a brief pause, she mustered the strength to reply, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "I am from Norgonia City in Norfolk country." Her response left both the inspector and me puzzled, as I had never heard of such a city before. The inspector sought clarification, expressing his confusion about the city's existence in Inkonia. In response, the girl appeared pale and bewildered, seeking confirmation. "Wait, wait. What did you say?" she asked the inspector, her voice filled with uncertainty.

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