Madison woke up tasting copper and regret.
Her head felt like someone had used it for hammer practice, and every muscle ached like she'd been wrung out like a dishrag. But she was breathing, which was an improvement over being strapped to a metal table in some government hellscape.
Progress.
"—sedatives should last at least six hours," a woman's voice drifted from somewhere nearby. Unfamiliar accent, professional tone.
"Well, she's moving now, so maybe your medical degree's from a cereal box," Kai shot back, and Madison felt something loosen in her chest. If he was being a smartass, he was probably okay.
She cracked her eyes open to what looked like a magazine spread titled "Cozy Mountain Retreat for Rich People." Stone fireplace, wooden beams that probably cost more than her car, furniture that managed to look expensive and comfortable simultaneously. Through floor-to-ceiling windows, forests stretched toward mountains that belonged on postcards.
