I woke up late, feeling like I’d been hit by a train. The previous night’s memories trickled back slowly, mostly of me lying in bed, wide-eyed and irritated, as my brain kept replaying that stupid comment Lucas had made about “working it off.” No matter what I tried—reading, counting backward from a hundred, even watching a mind-numbing TV show—it would sneak back into my head, leaving me restless, hot, and oddly uneasy. By the time I drifted off, it was practically dawn.
The knock at my door startled me awake. I blinked, disoriented, to find a woman standing by my bed, dressed in a drab brown dress that seemed almost out of place in this house.
“Who… are you?” I asked, trying to shake the remnants of sleep.
She gave a respectful nod. “Good morning, Miss. I’m here to assist you today. M
