Sawyer groaned, her head pounding. A faint woody smell filled the air, mixed with sweat, and a flowery perfume. She shifted, her body achy before yanking the covers off. Her shirt was damp and clung to her chest. As she moved to sit up, her head throbbed, making her eyelids heavy.
Slowly she pushed off the bed and onto her feet. Rocking slightly, she reached her hand out and touched the wall. Sawyer glanced behind her, Logan’s face glistened as she slept under the covers. Quinn’s bed was vacant, and the cloying odours hung in the air.
Nausea washed over her as a chill crept up her spine. Someone came in while they slept, that much she knew. She moved toward the end of her bed, a purple plant catching her eye. The blooms crowded the tall stock, somewhat reminiscent of a bell,
