Chapter 112

I wake to the sounds of Sarah making breakfast, my head dizzy, but at least I managed to sleep, a dreamless black haze with the usual night tremors waking me early before I finally dozed off again. The aftereffects of the pills are not great; my mouth is fuzzy, and I feel hungover. In my robe for a drink, I venture through to the kitchen and see her effortlessly moving from stove to countertop. The kitchen has always been her territory, which shows in her graceful, easy movements. She seems different this morning, though, tired and uptight.

“Hey,” I breathe; she startles at my voice and then breaks into a warm smile. I notice the lackluster of her usually bright eyes, causing a hint of concern to unravel inside me.

“Hey, stranger. God, I love your hair. When did you do that?” she gushes at me, the tight look dissipating quickly. I automatically reach up, tugging on a strand self-consciously, and shrug.

“Felt like a change,” I respond emptily.

Has it really be