The Broken Jaw

LYDIA’S POV

Warmth. That was the first thing that registered.

Then the dull, rhythmic ache pulsing behind my eyes brought reality crashing back. The clinic. The spinning hallway. The way my legs had given out beneath me.

I shifted on the mattress, expecting the cold emptiness of a vacant room.

Instead, my gaze landed on the bedside table. A small wooden tray sat there. A steaming mug of tea.