Jessa

I woke up warm.

Not warm like my room at home, where the heater always rattled like it was fighting for its life.

Warm like… safe.

The Carter guest room smelled faintly like laundry detergent and something cinnamon-y, like Mrs. Carter had baked something yesterday and the whole house still carried the memory of it.

For a second, I forgot where I was.

Then I blinked.

Then I remembered.

Snow day.

Blizzard.

Noah.

My stomach did that stupid flip it had been ...