Ryan woke up with a pounding headache, the events of the previous night a blur.
He groaned, sitting up in bed and trying to recall how he had gotten home.
He noticed he was clean and in fresh clothes, but the details escaped him.Iris was downstairs, making breakfast.
Her mind was still reeling from her discovery. She needed to talk to Ryan about the drugs, but she didn't know how to approach the subject.
Ryan slowly made his way downstairs, his head throbbing. He saw Iris in the kitchen and felt a pang of guilt.
"Morning," he said softly, trying to gauge her mood."Morning," Iris replied, her voice strained. She placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him. "We need to talk," she said, sitting down across from him.
Ryan's heart sank. "About what?" he asked,
