TERESA'S P.O.V.
It was early the next morning, Sunday morning to be exact, the sun barely filtered through the curtains when I heard a soft knock on my door. Groggy and still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, I struggled to lift myself out of bed. My whole body felt achy, with a dull throb pulsing through my lower back, and nausea churned in my stomach, making even the thought of movement exhausting.
Curiosity got the best of me, and I dragged myself to the door, peering through the peephole. My foggy mind cleared instantly at the sight. Adrian? Standing outside my door at this hour? My heart skipped a beat, the nausea momentarily replaced by confusion and a hint of caution I couldn't quite suppress. Why would he be here, especially so early? It was 7 am.
