XXII
Miri opened her eyes and found herself lying in a bed. She felt a soft mattress under her, and a down comforter wrapped snuggly around her waist.
She was in a nightgown that wasn’t hers.
Warm sunlight made her squint and put her hands to her eyes. It also made her head hurt, but her eyes slowly adjusted.
She was in a huge, open-concept penthouse with a high ceiling, granite floors and sumptuous furniture—ottomans, recliners and couches. A row of guitars hung on the wall, color-coded by wood type. A giant bookcase held at least a hundred worn hardcovers. Miri guessed they must be spell books.
A chandelier hung over the bed. Its value was probably more than her net worth, although, to be honest, her net worth wasn’t much.
The bed was the largest she’d ever seen—it could have fit t
