Abby woke to sunlight spilling across the futon and a dull, insistent ache behind her eyes. She groaned softly and rolled onto her side, pressing the heels of her hands into her face until the brightness dulled to something tolerable. The apartment wasn’t quiet. She could hear movement through the thin wall – cupboards opening, the low murmur of Lucas and Celia’s voices, the familiar domestic rhythm of people who still had their lives intact.
For a moment, she wanted to stay right where she was. To pull the blanket over her head, lock the door, and pretend that none of it existed. No council. No investigation. No mate lying alone in a hospital bed she wasn’t allowed to enter.
Her phone buzzed beside her.
KARI: I’m visiting Moe again.
KARI: His face is less swollen today. I can almost r
