CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MINA STUMBLED UP THE stairs to the Sanctuary. After fighting with the door, she slunk in, finding it hushed and blessedly empty. She plodded through the dappled light cast by sun through stained glass, and slumped down the stairs, her knees weak and muscles twitching the whole way. The corridor was dark, without even any light peeking out from under doors. The conclave was either empty or asleep. Or decimated. At the moment, she didn't care which.
In her room, she kicked off her boots, sending them against the wardrobe with a thunk. Then she collapsed on her bed and waited for the oblivion of day-sleep to take her, welcoming it. But, however tight she shut her eyes, sleep refused to take her away. Instead, she replayed the scene at Dale's house on a never-ending loop
