29Nora
“Nora, honey…” A familiar gentle touch pulls me out of my restless slumber. Forcing my heavy eyelids open, I stare uncomprehendingly at my mom, who’s sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking my hair. My head aches so much that it takes me a few moments to process her presence in our bedroom—and notice her red-rimmed, swollen eyes.
“Mom?” Holding the blanket, I sit up, suppressing a groan at the pain caused by the movement. My back feels stiff and sore, and my lower abdomen is cramping dully. “What are you doing here?”
“Julian called us this morning,” she says, her voice shaking. “He said you and Rosa were attacked at a club last night.”
“Oh.” A flash of anger wakes me fully. How dare Julian worry my parents like this? I would’ve come up with something less frightening to tell
