Third person POV
Next morning.
Layla stirred up to a faint clatter of porcelain. Morning light poured through tall windows, cutting thin and cold lines across a strange ceiling she didn't recognise.
Her mouth was dry and her temples throbbed.
She blinked, trying to figure out how she got to be there. The bedroom door creaked open immediately.
Caleb walked in carrying a silver tray. In there was a folded napkin, a plate of toast, a glass or orange juice and a steaming cup of coffee resting on it.
"Morning," he said, smiling. Like everything happening was the most ordinary thing in the world.
"Brought you something to relieve you of the hangover a bit."
Layla struggled to sit up and that was when the world tilted immediately.
She froze and the sheet slipped off her shoulders exposi
