I hadn't expected to wake up alone. Though I tell myself that Diogo is an important man and he has an important job to do, especially in the wake of the explosion, I'm still disappointed. I roll out of bed, groaning in pain as sore muscles stretch. I test my ankle as I stand up, using the bedframe for balance. It's still tender but I can walk without too much pain. I limp to the washroom where I brush my teeth and then sit at my desk and run a brush through the tangles of my hair. I smile wanly at the wild fluff I've made of my hair, then I look at myself. Really look at the dullness of my eyes, the paleness of my features, the dark rings under my eyes.
The smile drifts from my lips as I take in the last twenty-four hours; the elite dinner party, the explosion, the desert, the attack. Dea
