Chapter 16 Sixteen

• Morning light stabs through my eyelids like needles. I groan, rolling over and immediately regretting the movement as the room spins.
• Wait—no spinning. No pounding headache. No nausea.
• I sit up slowly, taking inventory. I'm still in last night's dress. But despite the ungodly amount of wine I consumed, I feel... fine. Tired, maybe a little dehydrated, but none of the crushing hangover symptoms humans would experience.