Sarah
I decide to stay home for the day. After last night, going to work was the last thing on my mind. I put on a full-sleeved shirt so Marishka does not see my wounds and worry, then head down to breakfast.
As I step into the dining room, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm toast fills the air.
For a moment, I let myself pretend that everything is normal. That last night didn't happen.
But the ache in my body tells me otherwise.
"Morning," I say, keeping my voice light as I pull out a chair.
Marishka turns, her sharp eyes scanning me like they always do. She doesn't miss much.
"You're up late," she notes, placing a plate of food in front of me. "Not going to work?"
I shake my head, picking up my fork. "Taking the day off. Didn't sleep well."
Her gaze lingers on me for a second too long, but she doesn't press. Instead, she slides into the chair across from me, cradling her mug of coffee between her hands.
