Rosalie

“Rosalie,” Ethan whispered.

I opened my eyes to his voice, his face only inches from mine. The dream I had been having disintegrated and fell back into the furthest recesses of my mind, the calm silence of sleep interrupted by background noise; papers rustling and the footsteps of someone unfamiliar walking by.

“Maeve’s awake. She’s alright. Troy is with the boys.”

“The boys? Oh—” I sat upright, expecting to feel pain, but ...