The first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Doris stirred, a dull ache throbbing in her head. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the light, she took in her surroundings.
A bowl of water, stained a deep crimson, sat on the bedside table. Next to it lay a bloody towel, its once pristine white now marred by a dark stain. Doris reached up and touched her head, wincing as her fingers brushed against a tender spot. She gingerly lifted her hand to examine the wound, only to find it wrapped in bandages. It appeared to have been stitched and tightly secured.
Her gaze shifted to the chaise lounge, where Suzy lay sprawled, her limbs sprawled in an awkward position. Doris blinked, her vision still blurry. She was in Suzy's room, in Suzy's bed. But what happened after she fainted?