Sienna

The house was finally quiet.

By noon, the last of the cars had pulled out of the driveway, and silence rushed in like a tide after a storm. Cups and wrappers still cluttered the corners, but the music was gone, the laughter gone, the chaos gone. All that was left was me, Jaxon, and the faint smell of alcohol lingering in the air.

I was slumped on the couch, head pounding like drums inside my skull. My throat felt like sandpaper, and my stomach twisted every time I moved. I groaned ...