Nathaniel's POV I went upstairs carrying a tray with light sandwiches, a bottle of cold water, and fresh juice. I'd kept it simple with whole-grain bread with turkey, mild cheese, a few crackers. Nothing that might upset Annie's stomach while she was still recovering from whatever had been slipped into her drink. I found her sitting up in bed, wearing one of my T-shirts that was far too big on her, and a pair of pajama pants I'd lent her. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and she looked calmer, though I could still see the leftover tension in her shoulders and the faintly unfocused look in her eyes. "How are you feeling?" I asked softly, setting the tray on the nightstand and sitting beside her, careful and slow. "Better," Annie said, taking one of the sandwiches and biting into it. "Thank you for this." I kept my voice low and my movements deliberate, predictable, like I was around a wounded bird that might startle at anything sudden. I wanted her to feel completely s
Read more