I was curled up under my blanket with my laptop propped on a pillow, pages of study notes open on one tab, a giant mug of ginger tea on the nightstand. My stomach still twisted now and then, but the fever had calmed. I still didn't have much of an appetite. 

Sloane came in through the door with a breeze of noise and her usual grace, tossing her bag on her bed and removing her sunglasses with a soft groan. Her brunette curls were pulled back in a soft, low bun, and she looked ...