TanzieI wake up bathed in sunlight. The room seems familiar; the bed feels familiar; but it looks different.
The curtains are pushed open wide, letting in the mid-morning sun from the east. The walls, once a rich golden color, are now off-white. There are no pictures on the wall. I look around and there is the familiar bathroom. This is Grisham’s room, but with a clean slate.
I reach up and feel a bandage on my head, scrapes on my face. My hands are covered in scrapes, too. I swallow, feeling constricted. The last few days start to come back to me—Spree attacking me, Kit attacking me. Spree again.
“I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened to you,” Grisham says.
I jump at the sound of his voice. I thought I was alone, but he’s sitting at the foot of the bed, head in his hands. I hadn
