A glimmer of hope

I woke up the next day feeling tired and exhausted, the memories of the night before clinging to me like a damp fog that wouldn't lift. Rachel was already up, bustling around the room, her movements efficient and silent. She glanced at me when she heard me stir, a soft smile on her lips. "How are you?" she asked, her voice a balm to my frazzled nerves. "I'm okay," I lied, sitting up slowly and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My body felt bruised and sore, a constant reminder of the violation I'd barely escaped. Rachel handed me a cup of tea, the steam curling up like a gentle embrace. "Thank you," I murmured, taking a tentative sip. It was sweet and soothing, just what I needed. "Well, I have good news, Emma," Rachel said, her eyes bright with something that looked like hope. "Mr. Harrison told me to tell you that you don't have to work today. He said you should rest." I stared at her, my heart skipping a beat. "What?" I croaked. "But why?" Rachel's smile grew a little wider