Lorelei

The light filtering through my curtains was wrong—too bright, too sharp, like needles behind my eyes. I tried to move, to turn away from it, but my body refused to cooperate. I was weighted down, anchored to the bed by something heavier than exhaustion.

Cold. I was so cold.

The door opened. Footsteps. A gasp.

"Oh, Goddess—Lorelei!"

Penelope's voice, but distant, muffled, like she was speaking through water. I felt her hands on my face, my wrists, my chest. Heard her frantic ...