Chapter 1202 In Pain

• Oakley
• Crisp morning air carries the scent of lavender and rosemary. I tuck my sheets in tight, carefully laying out the quilt I just finished and then fluffing my pillows.
• It’s a familiar morning routine that now feels totally foreign. I used to be able to skip over the squeaky floorboards, having memorized which ones make the most noise, but now it’s unfamiliar, like I’ve forgotten the very layout of my room.