42
Chloe
I wake up with my mouth dry and my eyes as gritty as if they’ve been filled with sand. Blinking against the bright light filling the room, I peer at a clock—and bolt upright in bed.
Five in the afternoon.
What the f**k?
Before I can gather my thoughts, there’s a quiet knock on the bedroom door, and Alina sticks her head in. “Ah, good. You’re finally awake.”
I grab a water bottle from the nightstand and chug it to ease the parched feeling in my throat. “What happened?” I croak when every precious drop of liquid is gone. I feel dazed and groggy, as though I’ve been drugged.
Alina strolls in, looking fresh and glamorous, as if she’s just stepped out of a full-service salon spa. I, on the other hand, feel—and probably look—like something the raccoons wouldn’t fish out of a garb
