#Chapter 91: The Morning After

Lauren I’m getting tired of fainting, collapsing, benign useless when I want to be anything but. I was used to waking up not knowing how I got where I was, but this time there was a small warmth. A familiar, steady warmth against my chest, the gentle rise and fall of breath that wasn't my own. My arms curled instinctively around the small frame nestled against me, my fingers brushing over soft, tangled hair. For a moment, I just lay there, my mind swimming in that quiet space between sleep and wakefulness, unwilling to move, unwilling to let go. Then, my eyes opened. Abigail. My daughter was in my arms, curled up against me as if she were still a child who had come crawling into my bed after a nightmare. But she wasn’t a child anymore. Well, she was, but she was growing, changing, everyday right before my eye. I shifted slightly, brushing a strand of chocolate hair from her face. And that’s when I saw it. Two small, inky-black dots just beneath each of her eyes. My