I wake in my room at home. My mother sits on the bed next to me, my father standing over her. Behind them, in the little alcove where I keep my tv and a couch, Rosa is laying, eyes closed. Tulip is cleaning the remains of a long night of coffee and worry for all involved.
For a second, since I don’t move, my parents don’t register it when my eyes flutter open. Then my mother gives a half-yelp, half-scream.
“Skylar!”
At the sound of her voice, everyone in the room jumps and rushes over to my bed.
As I start to blearily take in my surroundings, I realize that dawn is creeping in through the windows to greet me as well.
“Time?” I manage to mumble.
My father checks his watch. “A bit past five.”
I rub my eyes, realizing all of a sudden that although I don’t feel any injury, I am somewhat
