SERAPHINA’S POV
My eyes flutter open sometime in the night, observing the ceiling in front of me.
I turn, trying to get a sense of my surroundings. Through the window, it's still dark out, making it hard to tell if it’s very late or very early.
A movement to the left catches my attention. It's Olivia, quietly rolling up the rug in the room.
Weird.
Attempting to sit up, a sharp pain hits my head, and I groan, drawing her attention. Her hurried footsteps approach, and I feel her warm hands checking the top of my head.
“Are you okay?” She asks, sounding worried.
Why? I was just sleeping. Yet there’s an itch in my mind, a sensation of forgetting something important.
Unconsciously, my eyes move to the floor, and the sight of thick red liquid triggers a barrage of fragmented memories.
