The next time Waverly awoke, the sun had set and her room was dark, given a small light that sat on her nightstand. She sat up in her bed slowly and agony jolted through her arm, which was held up in a sling, making her wince. She raised her other hand and touched the bandages on her face, covering what was deep cuts and scrapes.
“You're awake," a voice said, somewhat surprised.
Beside her in an armchair sat Sawyer, who was watching her intently.
“Wh-what happened?" she said, bringing her one hand to her forehead, which was pounding almost as badly as her arm.
Sawyer leaned over to the nightstand and handed her medication and a glass of water. “You fell unconscious after the fight. One of the rouges attacked you and you broke your arm. Here, take this."
Waverly took the pill and c
