Chapter 135. Different

I inhale heavily to self-calm and level myself out, shake my head and give myself an internal rattle to snap out of this. I haul out the oversized nightshirt that Meadow gifted me, my all-time favorite, and underwear, and quickly strip, loving the feel of soft, delicate lingerie and a basic cozy and loose T-shirt printed with delicate pastel florals over gray sweats any day. It’s the little things that can restore you in weird ways.

I yank out my toiletries bag and find my hairbrush, facial wipes, and self-grooming products I left behind, as they were too heavy to carry, and start to put myself to rights. There’s a mirror over the mantle, and it’s only now I can see how grubby and worn I am. I look like a hobo who hasn’t seen water in weeks, and my hair is a dull brown because it’s so dirty.

Meadow was right, though; I do look different. My hair is longer, my face slimmer, and I have aged a little in my time in the wilds. My green eyes seem brighter. The color is more in