I wake up before the sun is fully over the trees, and for a few seconds I do not know where I am because the ceiling above me is smooth and white instead of cracked and water stained, and the mattress under my back does not dip in the middle like it is trying to swallow me whole.
Nathan’s house.
Right.
I sit up slowly and press my feet to the hardwood floor, and it is warm instead of icy, and that alone feels like something I have not earned.
The house is quiet in that early morning way that feels almost respectful, like it understands that last night was not normal and it is trying not to push too hard.
I shower quickly, letting the water run over my shoulders until the last traces of smoke and rogue blood scent fade from my skin, and when I step out I braid my hair tight because I n
