AMY’S POV
Waking up was a slow, agonising process.
My eyelids felt like they had been glued shut, and my head was pounding with a dull, rhythmic throb that resonated behind my temples. My mouth was dry, tasting of ash, and my limbs felt heavy, as if they had been pinned to the mattress.
For a long, disoriented minute, my brain was still booting, trying to make sense of the faint light filtering through the curtains and the soft, cool fabric beneath me.
I rolled onto my side, letting out a soft groan as the room took a slight tilt. As I moved, the fabric of the oversized shirt I was wearing shifted against my skin.
I blinked as my vision slowly cleared and looked down.
I wasn't wearing my black top or my dark jeans. Instead, I was dressed in a big, soft grey cotton shirt that hung ha
