184. The Morning That Unravels Her

Nova

I wake slowly, the way you do when sleep has been thick and unguarded, the kind that wraps around your bones and convinces you, just for a moment, that you are safe. For a few seconds, I don’t move.

There’s a ceiling above me that feels unfamiliar, higher than my hotel suite, and light creeping in from the side instead of straight on. My body is heavy, limbs warm, curled slightly inward as if I had been holding something close.

I blink.

The couch ...