The morning light did nothing to clear the fog in Betty’s head. If anything, the sun felt like a physical weight, pressing against her eyes until every nerve in her body ache. She tried to sit up, but her muscles felt like lead, heavy and unresponsive. Her skin was slick with a cold, sickly sweat.
When the heavy rumble of a truck echoed in the driveway, she couldn't even muster the strength to be afraid.
Grayson didn’t wait for an invitation. When she didn't appear on the porch as he’d hoped, the silence from the cabin was enough to send him through the door. He found her huddled under a mountain of quilts, her breath coming in shallow rasps.
"Betty?"
His voice was a low rumble of concern. He was at her side in an instant, his large hand pressing against her forehead. He hissed through
