Zoe POV

I come back to consciousness slowly, the way you do after a sleep that was too deep to be restful—not waking up so much as surfacing, layer by layer, each one heavier than the last.

The first thing I register is light. The second is the smell of food.

I open my eyes.

I still can’t quite believe it. Even now, in the flat honest light of morning, I can’t make myself accept it as a fact: that somewhere in this city there is a woman on a float who ...