Chapter 67 — The Morning After
Sidney woke up before the sun was fully in the sky, the light in the room still gray and soft, like the morning hadn't made up its mind yet.
For a long second, she didn't know where she was.
The room was unfamiliar in layout but not in smell—cedarwood, faint cologne, and something warm and clean like fresh laundry. The duvet weighed gently over her, the pillow cradled her cheek, and the mattress was too firm to be her own.
Then it clicked.
Carl's room.
Carl's bed.
She sat up slowly, the sheet rustling as her body moved. Her head didn't hurt, but her thoughts were foggy—like they were still tangled in the remnants of a dream she couldn't quite pull free from. She glanced down at herself. She was still in her T-shirt from the day before—though she didn't remember lying down in Carl's bed, much less falling asleep in it.
Her fingers gripped the blanket tighter as her mind started to piece the night together.
