Troy
I woke up to the smell of her perfume.
It hit me before I even opened my eyes. Something floral and cloying. For a split second, in that hazy space between sleep and consciousness, I thought she was still here. Still alive, still sprawled across my couch with that attitude of hers.
Then reality crashed back.
I opened my eyes and found myself staring at the ceiling of my living room. The same ceiling I'd been staring at when the paramedics had carried her body out yesterday. When the police had asked their questions. When the crime scene tape had finally come down.
I was lying on the couch. The same fucking couch where Fiona had died.
"Jesus Christ," I muttered, pushing myself upright. My neck was stiff, and there was a throw pillow stuck to my cheek from where I'd been drooling in my sleep. How long had I been out?
The last thing I remembered was standing in my bedroom, grabbing clothes to take back to Olivia's place. I'd been staring at the couch, replaying every moment from tha
