SKYLAR
When I rouse awake from sleep, I find myself staring at a ceiling that's unfamiliar to me. For a moment, my body reacts before my mind does. My pulse jumps. My fingers curl into the bedsheet as though I might need to fight my way out of wherever I am.
Thankfully, my memory slides into place. Yes, it's not my apartment or my bed. It's my friend, Katherine Regan's house. Yet, the realization does not calm me as much as it should.
I sit up, drawing the sheets tighter around my shoulders, and let my gaze wander. The room is tidy, with no remote possibility that it has ever known chaos. Katherine always liked to keep her space neat. There is a faint floral scent lingering in the air, something soft and soothing.
On the dresser sits a framed photograph of Kat with her family. Her mother's smile is warm, her brother's, practiced. Kat herself is caught mid-laugh with her head thrown back, carefree in a way I have not seen in a while.
