Zoe POV

The ceiling is familiar before I've finished deciding I'm awake.

Noah's room — I know it by the height of the window, the particular quality of light that comes through it in the afternoon, the way the air sits differently here than anywhere else in the building. I am in his bed. There are people moving around me, soft sounds of activity I can't quite parse yet, and everything feels like it's arriving through several layers of something thick and unhurried.

I ...