NIRELLE

I do not wait for Lucien's reply before I storm out of the living room. I am so grateful that I had paid attention while coming down; I was able to identify my room. As soon as I got into the room, I changed and lay on the bed. The bedspread was soft, the kind you want to bury your body into and stay there for a few hours, but the feeling against my skin was brutal. It’s comfortable, but in a way that feels wrong—unfamiliar. And I hate unfamiliar. My face hurts, and I wish I had ...