Book 18: A Few Rules

Fallon

I wake from a state that’s similar to what I assume a coma would feel like at exactly 9:47 P.M.

I have no idea what day it is, or, quite frankly, where I am. I have very few memories of much beyond that amazing dinner and a salt breeze before my brain split in half.

I sit up, blinking into a totally dark, but regal, room that curves in nearly a circle. A few doors catch strips of moonlight beaming through six arched windows, all of which are open to the sound of waves rolling against a nearby shore.

For a moment, I feel transported to Maatua, but this place has none of the modern charm of the beach houses my family shares. Marble columns stretch toward the ceiling, and even in the moonlight, I can tell the room is decorated in shades of sand, with pale blues and greens–very beachy and serene, indeed.