Victor's POV
I was already half out of bed when I noticed her.
Sharon. Curled on the couch by the window, the blanket from the armchair pulled up to her chin, one hand tucked under her cheek. In the gray morning light she looked almost peaceful. Almost.
I stood there a moment. Then I crossed the room and touched her shoulder.
"Sharon."
She stirred slowly, blinking up at me. She dragged the back of her hand across her face, yawning like someone surfacing from deep water. For a second, her eyes were confused... like she needed a moment to remember where she was, whose room this was, whose life she had walked back into.
"You slept on the couch," I said.
"Mm." She sat up, pulling the blanket with her. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
I pulled the desk chair out and sat across from her. "You're reading something into last night that isn't there."
She looked at me carefully. "Am I?"
