The soft light of morning streamed through the tall windows, casting warm stripes across the floor. Lucy blinked her eyes open slowly. The ache in her head had faded, though her body still felt weak and heavy. She pushed herself up, rubbing at her eyes.
Her room was silent. The air smelled faintly of fresh flowers and clean sheets. A tray sat on the small table near the bed, tea, untouched. The drip was gone from her arm now. Someone had cleaned her up and left her to rest.
Lucy swung her legs over the side of the bed. She needed to stretch, to walk, to feel normal again. The night before felt like a bad dream, the wine, the pain, Barry’s cold voice, the dark blur as she passed out.
She stepped out into the hall, bare feet soft on the floor. The house was quiet, but as she neared the st
