The next morning.
The birds chirping sounded faintly through the window in the shared bedroom, the sound almost too cheerful for the woman curled under the blanket. Melisa stirred, lashes fluttering before her eyes cracked open.
A dull itch pressed at her throat, followed by a sting each time she swallowed. She narrowed her eyes in irritation. Wonderful. Just what she needed to start the day—an unwelcome sore throat.
Her hand instinctively reached left, brushing over the sheets. They were still faintly warm. The faint trace made her pause. She didn't think too hard about it, yet a small smile had already bloomed at her lips before she even realized.
She pulled herself out of bed and padded to the bathroom.
Inside, in front of the half-length mirror, she leaned closer, cupping water in her palms. The splash of cold water stung against her skin, chasing away the last remnants of sleep. When she straightened, her gaze caught on something near her cheek—small, barely visible.
