Alex woke up the next morning but couldn't find the strength to crawl out of bed.
Sunlight slipped through the half-drawn curtains, falling across the floor and casting long shadows on her walls. Her gaze drifted to the mirror across the room, where her reflection stared back—bloated, pale, and red-eyed from crying herself to sleep.
Everything still felt surreal. Or, more accurately, a nightmare version of her own.
Wasn't it strange how someone could crash into your world and flip everything upside down in just a few weeks?
Forcing herself upright, Alex swung her legs off the bed. Pain flared in her wrist, and a dull ache bloomed in her muscles, but she welcomed the discomfort. It was easier to focus on the physical pain than the hollowness in her chest.
She dragged herself to the bathroom and turned on the shower. The water ran hot, almost scalding, but she didn't flinch. It was comforting.
