Chapter 29 Sonia's Warnings

• The morning unfolded slowly. Ivy hadn’t opened the curtains, but light still filtered through the thin linen, painting long, dull shadows across the floor. The apartment was too quiet. The kind of quiet that pressed itself into her thoughts and asked questions she didn’t want to answer yet.
• She hadn’t gotten up immediately. Her limbs ached, but not from sleep. Her skin hummed with a soreness she knew the source of. She had felt the sting the moment she moved her legs under the sheets, felt the heat beneath her skin when she tried to stretch.
• The bruises were not small things. They colored her hips and thighs in the shape of fingers, left behind like warnings or signatures. She hadn’t looked at them the night before. She’d showered without turning on the full lights. She’d climbed into the bed naked, with her hair wet and her stomach heavy, and let her thoughts drift without direction.