Alex woke up the next morning feeling better than she had in days. Her muscles still ached, but the pounding in her head had dulled to a distant throb. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted by warm light filtering through her curtain, and her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror.
She groaned. She really needed to move that mirror. Waking up to her half-dead reflection wasn't exactly a motivational start to the day.
But at least she didn't look totally horrendous.
The comforting smell of something cooking wafted through the air. She turned and found a familiar medical kit on her nightstand. Riley.
Alex pushed herself out of bed, her legs a little wobbly. She shuffled toward the kitchen, following the scent of something warm and edible. Riley stood at the counter, setting the table.
Porridge. Fresh fruit. Warm milk.
It looked like heaven.
"You're awake," Riley said, catching her in the doorway. "Sit. I made breakfast."
