JUNIPER'S POV:

I wake up to a pounding headache, the kind that feels like a rock concert is happening inside my skull. Not surprising, given how much I drank last night. With a groan, I drag a hand over my face, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming through the window.

I turn my head, expecting to see Hiram beside me, but the bed is empty. Instead, there's a neatly folded note on the pillow. Curiosity courses through me, and I grab the note, unfolding it with shaky hands.

You're ...