Ariana’s POV
The second morning came without resistance.
I woke before the light had fully spread across the room, my eyes opening gradually as awareness settled in rather than rushing me awake. The bed no longer felt unfamiliar in the way it had the day before, though I was still conscious of its softness, of how easily it held me compared to what I had grown used to. The pillows were too perfect, the sheets too smooth, everything arranged in a way that required no effort from me.
For a moment, I remained still, listening.
There was no immediate sound beyond the faint movement of air through the curtains and the distant, controlled rhythm of life beginning somewhere beyond my door. It was a different kind of quiet than what I had left behind, not empty, but measured, as though even si
