Juniper's Pov
One month later.
I stand over the basin in the office bathroom, gripping the cool porcelain edge, my eyes locked on my reflection. My skin looks a little paler than usual, my eyes a touch duller, like they’ve lost their usual spark. I take a deep breath through my nose, trying to steady the swirling feeling in my stomach.
With a twist of the tap, cool water gushes out, and I cup my hands beneath it. I bring a handful to my mouth and rinse, the metallic aftertaste of nausea lingering faintly. I spit, rinse again, then splash water on my face, once, twice, hoping it might jolt some life into me. The droplets run down my cheeks and drip from my chin, leaving me cold but slightly more alert. I pat my face dry with a paper towel, exhale slowly, and straighten my posture.
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