[Sera]
I wake up feeling like someone drained me dry and forgot to screw the cap back on. My eyelids flutter open, heavy as lead, and the room swims into focus. Not a hospital. No sterile white walls, no beeping machines.
The air smells faintly of mint and something earthy, like crushed spices. Bundles of dried herbs hang from the walls, swaying gently in a draft I can't place. My body aches, a deep, bone-weary exhaustion that pins me to the bed.
I try to sit up, but my arms tremble and give out.
A gasp from the corner. "Sera? Oh thank God."
Ryan's face hovers into view, his eyes red-rimmed and shadowed, like sleep is a concept he's forgotten. He rushes over, grabbing my hand. "You've been out for three days. Scared the crap out of us."
Three days? I blink, throat scratchy as sandpap
