Chapter 88

I wake up in bed, tucked in nice and cleanly with a nightdress on and a much clearer head. That cotton wool head is not as severe, and my throat no longer feels like razor blades are lodged in the passage. I feel less unwell yet still fragile and bruised with a lingering temperature. I think it must have been a virus, and last night it hit its peak with a bit of help from a New York thunderstorm.

This is what my body does, it gets sick and lingers for days, and then WHAM, like a flash flood, it will spike, knock me for six for an intense twelve hours and flush it out of my system. It’s how I have been my whole life.

I jump when a girl wanders from the bathroom and smiles at me, catching me completely by surprise as I assumed I was alone. She looks no more than a teenager, and I gawp at her with complete suspicion, no idea who she is or why she’s wandering the apartment like some candy striper.

“Who are you?” I blink at her defensively, struggling to sit up and pull