A wave of relief washed over Tessy like a gentle tide after a storm when the door creaked open and Freya stepped into the hospital room. Her eyes, which were dull and puffy from hours of crying, widened slightly as they landed on her friend. It was as though the breath she'd been holding since she regained consciousness finally left her lungs.
But something snagged her attention. Freya wasn't wearing the same clothes from earlier that night. Her black tank top had been replaced by an oversized beige sweater, and her jeans had been swapped for sweatpants. That was odd. Confusing even. But Tessy didn't have the strength to ask about it.
"Hey baby girl," Freya called out the moment her eyes landed on Tessy's form seated on the bed, her back resting against a pile of white pillows. Her voice was warm, a familiar lilt that usually brought comfort. But today, even that didn't help much.
