Thirteen
I battle my way through pain and tangled dreams for what feels like days before restful sleep finally takes me. When I eventually open my eyes and find a world that isn’t spinning dizzily, my first thought is that I’ve been here before, in this moment. Waking from a long, injury-healing sleep. Lying on Ryn’s couch with him kneeling beside me. The memory is so strong that when I turn my head to the side, I expect to see him.
It isn’t Ryn sitting in a chair beside my bed, though. It’s Tora. And this is the bedroom that used to be mine when I lived with her.
“Hey,” she says, looking up from a collection of papers in her hand. She places them on the bedside table and leans forward in her chair. “Ready to face the world again?”
I look down and see a narrow scar encircling my wrist
